He Dreams Of Flying
by MysticMonarch
Summary: Castiel is a boy trying to make it on his own, a boy no different from the rest. Except, of course, for the pair of ocean blue wings he's hiding underneath baggy T-shirts and sweaters. He's antisocial and prefers to stick to himself. That is, until a boy named Dean Winchester starts turning everything upside-down. Destiel, high school AU.
1. Chapter 1

**UPDATE: I was informed in one of my reviews that actually removed my paragraphing when I copied and pasted. I'm sorry! SO VERY SORRY GUYS UGH THAT MUST HAVE BEEN ANNOYING! This ****is NOT the first time it has happened, so if you're working on a fanfic of your own, fair warning to check if you use copy and paste. **

Chapter 1

'He Dreams Of Flying'

**Hello followers! I would like to tell you that this is my first Destiel fanfiction and I hope that you enjoy~ The entire thing is already written and you will receive updates once a week. Please don't beg for updates because seeing a review that just says 'please update' honestly makes me angry. If enough people piss me off I can and will wait and release the next chapter a couple of days late. That being said, you don't have to worry about this not being completed. Please vote and review, just don't ask me to update in your review~ enjoy!**

**Oh, on a side note, if you want to make your own spin off fic/ fan art/ post this anywhere, feel free to. Just make sure to mention that it came from me originally!**

**I do NOT own Supernatural, this is a free, fan-made product and I am making no profit off of it, the intent of the product is for fellow fans to enjoy and to share my love of Supernatural with the common public, no copyright infringement is intended!**

His eyes were closed. His hair was ruffled up and a light sheen of sweat was still present on his skin. His clothes were wrinkled and clung awkwardly to his body.

Castiel was late, and he knew that he needed to get up soon.

But his bed was soft and cool, and the blankets encased his body in a world of heat and security; he could honestly say that, despite logic, he felt safer under the covers. It wasn't the thickest or most sturdy barrier, but it separated him from the rest of the world.

He opened up his eyes just a slit, groaning in defeat when he saw the time. He had five minutes until the bus would be there.

With a spike of adrenaline, Castiel hurled himself out of bed, snapping out of the grogginess that had sunk its claws into him. He quickly crossed the room to his dresser, taking out his clothing and grabbing something random. It's not like there was much to choose from anyways, Cas always wore large sweaters and a pair of baggy jeans.

He ripped his shirt off of his head, pausing momentarily at the soft caress of feathers on his skin and the relief of stretching his muscles as his wings sprung free.

He looked at them sadly in the mirror, giving a deep sigh. He shouldn't like them being out; he shouldn't like any part of having them.

Castiel Novak was a normal kid, or at least, mostly.

He was born with wings.

Nobody knew how or why, but from the moment he was born, a pair of deep-blue wings, large enough to actually carry him, were proudly on his shoulders. The doctors called it a phenomenon, the scientists called it a mutation. His mother called him a monster.

His mother had left when he was just two years old. She just couldn't handle it; they'd made the decision to hide Castiel's wings from the cruel world, knowing that people feared what they didn't yet know. She was a smart woman, and she knew that he'd be poked and prodded and made into a freak, so she kept them secret.

At least, that's what his father had always told him.

He'd found his mother's diary a few years ago. It had been an accident, he merely stumbled upon the book while his father had gone out drinking again. The leather had been hidden underneath the bed, tucked away and covered in a thick layer of dust that displayed how long it had been since anyone had touched it. He picked it up curiously, sneezing as the dust wafted off and tickled his nose.

His breath caught in his throat when he read his mother's name in neat handwriting. This was...

This was his mother's journal!

He'd been begging to know about her for the last four years of his life, pestering his drunken father repeatedly for any kind of information. Even with the help of alcohol, he wouldn't tell Castiel anything; well, except for that she had been beautiful and left when he was young.

He grabbed the book and immediately shoved it underneath his trench coat, getting up off the floor. The vacuum, (he had been cleaning and gotten on his hands and knees to get underneath the bed) lay forgotten as he walked briskly back to his own room, shutting the door tightly behind him as he arrived.

He pressed his back against the door, ignoring the discomfort it put on his wings as he slowly slid down the wooden surface. He concentrated on breathing evenly as he clutched the book tightly to his chest, his eyes closed as he struggled to comprehend that he had done it. Against all odds, he'd found something that linked him to his mother. The apparently beautiful woman who had run off.

What if she had left some indication of where she might be? What if she had left a phone number where Castiel could finally, at the very least, hear his mother's voice? He knew that she wouldn't come back; he wasn't stupid.

But he could still hope for an 'I love you.'

When his breathing had calmed, he slowly forced himself to lower the book from where it was pressed into his chest. He looked at the name again, his hands shaking. He was scared.

As much as he wanted to open it, he felt like it was an invasion of privacy. It wasn't exactly like he could ask her permission though, and she would have taken it if it was that important to her...

But when he placed his hands on the cover, he felt guilty. These were her words, her personal thoughts, and he didn't even know her. It was the equivalent of picking up the diary of a stranger. It didn't feel right.

So, he gave a deep sigh. He unconsciously gripped the book tighter in his fingers, as if that would somehow change his own mind. He slowly pulled himself up off of the floor and walked to his dresser, placing the dusty journal underneath a few of his school books. His dad wouldn't check there, and even if he couldn't read it, it would make him feel so much better just to have it close. Like having a part of her with him.

Castiel was human though, so naturally, he had human curiosities. His resolve couldn't last forever, especially with the looming threat of the possibility of his dad finding it and taking away the only chance he might have to learn about her.

It sat on his dresser for three weeks before he cracked. He stormed in the room, angry at everything. He'd been teased at school that day, come home to find his father drunk, and said drunk tried to put his fist through Castiel's face. He'd easily dodged, but it didn't change the fact that he was pissed as hell about it.

Castiel knew how to take care of himself. He had dealt with physical assault before, and most of his experiences actually turned up in his favor. He was calm and collected about fighting, as he was calm and collected about everything else. He could easily dodge, and any punch that he dished would leave his opponent something to think about. Of course, he didn't like to hit. To him, hurting someone was stooping to their level, and most people just weren't worth it.

So, the feeble and drunken attempts at punches were more annoying than anything else.

He contained his anger though, sitting calmly on his bed and gritting his teeth. He looked around, his crystal blue eyes searching for something that would entertain him for the time being.

Finally, they rested on the pile of school books above his mother's journal.

He had fought so hard today to resist doing something he would regret. Hurting the kid who wouldn't stop teasing him about wearing sweaters in April (because it was only a little chilly outside; not sweater weather, that was for sure) or punching his dick father back. He was sick of fighting his urges. This is something that he knew he would eventually do anyways, so why not now?

He got up, his hands reaching out to grasp the pile of books on top. He moved them quickly, honestly afraid that he would change his mind before he got to find out anything. The television was turned up downstairs, and he could hear crowds of people laughing at the (most likely cliche) jokes. He breathed out shakily as his hands grasped the leather, and he brought it back up to his chest momentarily, just long enough to inhale the scent of old pages before he walked over to the bed.

He sat down and lazily threw his feet up after him, leaning against his pillow as he grasped the clasp. His hands were shaking; he was too excited. At twelve years old, finally getting to find out something about his mother.

His hesitation lasted only a moment before he opened it up, eyes eagerly scanning the pages.

It didn't start out as her being upset. In fact, she was very happy.

She was overjoyed to be pregnant. She had dreamed of this for the longest time; she had his name picked out two years before he was even born. She was going to give him the world; she had big plans for him. They were to be a family, live in a huge house with a white picket fence, he was supposed to have two sisters.

Until suddenly, she changed.

The entry before his birth was happy, maybe even ecstatic. She had felt that all of her dreams were coming true.

The one after was eccentric and full of hate.

_'I've given birth to a monster. I don't know how, but I did. He's not normal; this isn't how it was supposed to be. I have no clue how this happened, but I assume it was some kind of divine punishment for something I did. I don't know what it was, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'_

Castiel finished the paragraph, confusion swimming in his head. What? He knew that his wings were why she had left, but surely they were a blessing?

_'He's got wings. I don't know how or why, but he does. They're the deepest, midnight blue, and it terrifies me. I don't even want to touch him for fear that he would taint me. I can't do this, I can't. He's a monster, I just know it.'_

Castiel slammed the book shut, breathing heavily. How did that make any sense?

He couldn't help that he was born that way... Had she left because he was a monster?

He opened up the book again, praying that it was just some kind of twisted joke, praying that he was dreaming and this wasn't real. But the words seemed to jump off the page, and every one of them seemed to stab him deeper and deeper. He was crying by the time he finished rereading the entry.

He didn't want to read the rest of it. He knew what it would say; that he was an abomination, that he was somehow her cosmic punishment for some sort of wrong she had committed.

He closed the book and shoved it under his bed, forcing himself to stop crying. He wouldn't give in to the swirl of emotions inside of him, he wasn't going to cry about this. He was going to be strong. Why should he cry? It's not like she was a part of his life anymore.

He knew though, that deep down, this was going to hurt him for a long, long time.

So, he'd grown to hate his wings. They made people fear him, and people hated what they feared. He couldn't deal with the rejection, and he knew that it put some handicaps on his social life. For example, he couldn't change in the locker rooms, or if he was forced to, he would wait until everyone else was out to do so.

He heard the bus stop a couple houses down, and he quickly wrapped his feathers around his torso and slipped his shirt over his head, pulling it down over his hips and grabbed his backpack and trench coat, slinging both over his shoulders and running out of the room.

The bus had started to pull away just as he emerged, and he let out a sigh of relief as it stopped again, and the doors re-opened. He climbed up the overly large steps, panting slightly from over exertion.

"You better be on time tomorrow. I don't want to have to leave you behind." The bus driver threatened. Cas shook his head, but he knew that the bus driver wasn't going to leave him. He'd been threatening the same thing for years, and just because he was now a sophomore didn't change the fact that he still thought of Cas as an adorable little boy with a special kind of light in his eyes.

A light that has faded as the years came and went.

Cas sat down in the front seat, closing his eyes as the bus began to roll again. It didn't matter that he was on a bus surrounded by people who he either hated or was entirely indifferent towards. When he closed his eyes, he was in a different place.

It depended really on his mood, where he was. Sometimes, he was exploring a cave where the Mayans had hidden some of their ancient texts to prevent them from being burned, and he would be the first to unravel their secrets. Sometimes, he was trekking through the mountains and cataloging wildlife. Sometimes, and he dared most of all to imagine this, he dreamed that someone would find his wings, and accept him despite it.

He didn't really talk to anyone. Boys and girls alike never caught his interest. He stuck to reading books and learning as much useful information as he possibly could. To him, school was a mediocre excuse for learning; there were so many things that he had taught himself that were ten times more important than the things he learned in the eight hours they forced him into a room with a group of kids who's collective IQs wouldn't be higher than their collective heights.

Don't get him wrong, Castiel loved to learn. He just didn't like school.

Despite that, he had good grades. His teachers were always impressed, and it came as natural as sleep for him. There were a few classes that he had to work hard in, but for the most part he was fine.

The bus jerked to a stop, breaking him out of his daydream. His eyes snapped open and he grabbed his backpack, quickly sliding out of his seat and walking down the steps, eyeing the school warily.

He marched inside, glad that it was a little cooler than it was outside. The summer heat had already began to descend upon April.

He walked immediately to his classroom, looking at the ground as he did so. He heard a hushed, "Hey, Cas," from Gabriel, but he ignored it. Gabriel was nice, but he didn't feel like talking right now. He wanted to read before class.

He slipped into the room, unnoticed as usual, and sat in the very back. His hands brushed the rough fabric of his backpack as he reached inside, retrieving his old, worn copy of an Egyptian mythology book.

Castiel loved mythology and theology. It was something he could never quite put his finger on, but he really liked the ideas some people came up with. And despite everything... He still believed that there was a god, and that he was watching over all of them. It was comforting.

He scanned the pages, reading some of his personal favorite entries about Anubis, the god of funerals. He seemed like he'd have a _deadly_ sense of humor. (Or at least, he did in the Rick Riordan books.)

The bell rang, the sound echoing in his ears. He slumped down in his seat and reluctantly closed the book, giving a slight pout as the teacher walked up to the front of the classroom. Unfortunately, it was time for French.

"Good morning class, please get started on the problems on the board." She instructed, as she did every day. Castiel didn't do the problems; they went over them every day in class, so doing them by oneself would be a waste of energy.

He picked up his pen and started to doodle on his paper, drawing a tiny pyramid.

It was the same boring schedule day after day, and today would be no different than yesterday.

Boy, was he wrong.

Suddenly, the door exploded, and all the students turned to look.

Castiel dropped his pencil.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, well-built dirty blonde boy, with green eyes and smile lines. He had a deep green jacket and wore a necklace with a small golden pendant, which rested lightly on his black-clothed chest. He had broad shoulders and his voice was surprisingly husky for a high schooler.

"Sorry I'm late. Dean Winchester." He greeted. The teacher raised an eyebrow.

"Class, meet the new student, Dean." She said, gesturing towards the boy. Castiel picked up his pen again, holding it in between his fingers as he resumed doodling. The boy was attractive, but it's not like it had relevance to him. He was just going to end up one of the snobbish jocks, so it didn't matter how cute he was.

"Class, how about today we take the time to get to know each other?" The teacher suggested. Castiel almost dropped his pencil again when he heard that. They almost never varied from schedule. "We're ahead right now anyways. Dean, you'll go first. Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Dean stepped forward, smirking.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy long walks on the beach and frisky women." He said. Castiel rolled his eyes as he continued, "most of my time is spent taking care of my little brother or listening to music." He said. "I'm a junior."

Castiel shook his head. There were several girls in the classroom that already had their eyes on him, he could tell. They always went after the douche bags, and he could just tell that Dean would be one of them.

He stopped paying attention after that, continuing to doodle in his notebook. The time seemed to stretch on forever, the students one by one introducing themselves to Dean and just generally wasting class time. Eventually, Cas felt a small nudge from the girl on his right, and he realized that he was being spoken to.

"Cas, your turn."

He quickly shut his notebook, setting it aside and standing up as the other students had.

"I'm Castiel Novak. I enjoy reading in my spare time." He mumbled. He immediately sat back down, opening his notebook and doodling again.

Soon after that, introductions were finally over and he let out a sigh of relief. Finally, this waste of time would be done with.

"Where would you like to sit?" The teacher asked. Castiel vaguely payed attention, because he knew he was going to have to soon anyways. He was not, however, expecting what next came out of Dean's mouth.

"How about the empty seat next to the cute one with fluffy hair, in the trench coat?" He asked, gesturing back towards Castiel. Castiel's eyes slowly flickered up as he felt his peers simultaneously turn to look at him. He felt his face heat up.

"Castiel?" The teacher asked. Dean shrugged.

"I'm not good with names." He said bluntly. The teacher just shook her head.

"Okay, I'll mark down your choice." She said, giving a small sigh. She could already tell that this new kid was going to be trouble, so she figured that it would be best for him to be in the back anyways. Castiel silently begged her not to let him sit next to him.

Dean walked, no, sauntered over to where he sat, a dangerous smirk never leaving his face.

They made brief eye contact, and Dean winked. Castiel blushed and sank down into his chair, aiming all of his loathing towards his new classmate.

He had managed to remain relatively invisible this entire year. Nobody had talked to him, he'd flown under the radar. He knew now that he was going to be the center of all kinds of rumors and gossip, probably involving Dean.

He sat down beside Castiel, taking out a pencil and paper and copying down the answers on the board. Only thirty minutes of class had been taken up, despite the contest the kids had seemed to have to see who could drag out their introduction the longest. They had fifty more minutes of class. (Castiel's periods were longer because he had five in a day instead of the standard seven, and his classes were arranged into three semesters a year instead of two).

Castiel kept his eyes glued to the blackboard, going on instinct to know where he was writing. It was a miracle his answers didn't end up sprawled all over the paper, but he didn't want to look back and forth. He might risk sneaking a glance at Dean, and he could feel the other's eyes trained on him as soon as he was finished writing.

Castiel finished writing himself and set down his pen, looking at his hands. He sank low in his seat; he could hear people whispering, and he knew that it was about Dean. He could only pray that he wouldn't get caught up in all of it.

He felt a light push against his skin, and he looked down to see a folded piece of paper slide under his elbow. He tilted his head in confusion and his eyes flickered up to meet Dean's. He gave a sigh, lifting up his elbow to pick up the note from underneath it. He knew he couldn't fight the curiosity if he tried, so he opened it up and spread it out. He'd never passed notes before in class.

'_Hey.' _Was written. Castiel's brows furrowed as he read the scratchy writing.

'_Hey?' _He wrote back. He refolded the paper and glanced to the front of the classroom, slightly nervous that the teacher would catch him passing the note. To his relief, she didn't bat an eyelash in their direction as he reached out and slid the note across to Dean's desk.

It wasn't moments later until it was back on his desk, snapping his concentration in two.

_'So... What's your schedule?'_

_'Why do you want to know?'_ Castiel wrote. He got the same nervous pang in his stomach as he passed it back, worried that the teacher would catch them and call them out on passing notes. Then the rumors would really fly.

_'Because, I'm hoping that we have some of the same classes together. I don't know anyone else here and you seem nice enough.'_

Castiel frowned at the message. He hoped that he didn't have any more classes with Dean. He reluctantly wrote down his schedule though, not wanting to come off as rude. He passed the paper along more smoothly this time, the teacher thoroughly distracted as she talked about verb conjugation.

_'Cool, we have almost every class together.'_

Castiel resisted the urge to groan, picking up his pen and putting it to his paper. He paused, not quite sure what to say. He didn't want to sound rude, but he also didn't want to keep talking to Dean. He knew that Dean was going to talk to him for ten minutes before realizing that Cas wasn't his type, and then he'd ignore him for the rest of his high school career.

'_Okay_.' He wrote back, passing it back with ease this time. The teacher was very caught up in her lesson, she wasn't going to notice anytime soon.

_'So, I'd like to get to know you better.'_

_'Why would you want to do that?' _Castiel quickly wrote, confusion flowing through him. After a second thought, he added, '_I highly doubt I'm your typical kind of friend.'_

_'Don't make assumptions based on how someone looks. Listen, if you don't want to talk then I understand it, but I really would like to get to know you.'_

_'Fine. What would you like to know?' _Castiel asked, still convinced that Dean would run away in the next five minutes.

_'What kind of music do you like?'_ He asked. Castiel stared at the paper blankly, blinking a couple of times.

_'I don't really listen to any music.'_

_'You don't listen to music? Not even on the radio or anything?'_

_'I don't even have a radio, so no.'_

_'I'm sorry, that sounds like it sucks. You should let me drive you home today, I'll play you some music on the way.'_

Castiel stared at the note blankly, feeling the blood begin to rush to his face. What was this? They barely knew each other, and Dean was already talking like they were best friends.

_'I'm not really comfortable with that.' _He wrote, then passed it back. He heard Dean's quiet scoff and the furious scribbling of pen on paper, before he was met with a pristinely folded paper again.

'_What, have you never done anything spontaneous before?' _Dean asked.

_'Not if there's a chance my lifeless corpse could end up on the side of the road.' _He wrote back, slightly agitated.

Dean laughed out loud, barely able to muffle the sound with his hand in time to stop the teacher from hearing it. Several kids in front of them turned back to look though, and they were still looking as he threw the note back at Castiel. Great, just great.

_'Well then, aren't we the optimistic one? It's not even fun if there's not at least a 10% chance of getting killed.'_

_'I'll stick to boring then, thanks.' _Castiel said, growling a bit in irritation. He typically never showed outward emotion, but this Dean kid was really getting to him. He knew that he was going to start ignoring him soon anyways, so why didn't he just start doing it already?!

_'Okay, then. Whatever makes you comfortable. So, if you don't listen to music, what do you do in your spare time?'_ Was pushed onto his desk. He stared at it for awhile, thinking through his answer. He didn't really do much, just studied and read and slept.

_'I read.'_ He wrote. He expected Dean to sigh and crumble up the paper, deciding that Cas wasn't his type of friend after all, but he didn't.

_'What do you typically read?'_

_'Mythology, mostly.'_ He said.

'_Really? What type of mythology? My little brother is into that kind of stuff, so I know some about it.'_

Castiel stared at the paper in shock. He wouldn't have expected that. It seemed like he really might have misjudged Dean.

Just then, the teacher handed out a worksheet that was due at the end of class. He growled in frustration before he shoved the note off to the side, deciding to focus on that. Dean seemed to understand, because he wasn't bothered about it.

The sound of the bell made him flinch as he gathered up his items, heading out the door and into the hallway, eager to leave Dean behind. He didn't want to bother with having friends; they were just more nosy people to push away. He didn't want to let anyone too close, all it did was complicated things.

He briskly walked to second period, walking in and sitting down in the very back again. He opened up his notebook again, continuing to doodle on his paper. He didn't know why he drew, because he wasn't good by any means. He supposed it was just something to do while he was bored.

He heard the shuffling of feet as his classmates filed into the room, and he felt a rush of air as someone plopped into the seat next to him, and he turned to find Dean smiling. His stomach dropped as those green eyes seemed to pierce through him.

"You can't get rid of me that easy." Dean responded teasingly, leaning lazily on the desk as he eyed Castiel.

"I can certainly try." Castiel said back, smiling at Dean. He seemed more impressed by the comeback than put off.

"You're cute when you smile, you should do it more often." Dean teased. Cas could feel his face heating up and he turned away, thankful that the bell chose that exact moment to ring proudly. He let out a sigh of relief and sunk low into his seat.

Thankfully, Dean didn't try to pass notes. Some kids in front of them got caught and they got detention, so he probably didn't want to risk it. Which was okay as far as Castiel was concerned.

He tried to focus on the science lesson being taught in front of him, even taking down notes, but he found it difficult. He kept feeling like Dean was watching him, but he was too scared to look over and check. What if he wasn't staring and then caught Castiel looking? That would be mortifying, and he might get the wrong impression from it.

Finally, just when Cas thought that he was going to explode from the tension, the bell rang. He stood up quickly, gathering his things and flinching as he glanced up to see Dean looking at him.

"In a rush to get somewhere?" Dean asked playfully. Castiel shook his head yes, dropping his gaze.

"I do have another class in four minutes." Castiel mumbled, slinging his backpack onto his shoulders.

"Okay then, see ya." Dean said, waving at Castiel's back. Castiel increased his walking pace, glancing behind him to see Dean taking a right to his next class. He took a moment to be thankful that at least they didn't have that one together, too.

Third period seemed to fly by all too fast, and he walked to lunch dreading fourth. Dean had said that they had most of their classes together, which meant that they most likely had at least three together, so he knew that he'd have to face him again in the next few hours.

He sighed, grabbing an apple and going to sit underneath his usual tree. The cool serenity of the shade felt nice on his skin, and he closed his eyes as a breeze caressed his face. He was more relaxed then he'd been all day.

Suddenly, another aroma filled the air. It was musky and wild, and had just the slightest hint of cinnamon. Castiel leaned towards the pleasant smell a little, intrigued by it.

He opened his eyes slowly to find that he was leaning towards Dean.

"W-what are you doing here?" He asked, cursing himself for stuttering. Honestly, he should be more collected than this.

"I think the better question would be to ask why you're smelling me." Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

"You smell nice." Castiel explained flatly, turning his head and sitting up straighter. Dean let out a chuckle, obviously amused with his little display.

Suddenly, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck and he shivered pleasantly, not understanding what was happening until Dean was already pulling back.

"You smell nice too." He said, and Castiel sun down as he felt his face return to bright crimson.

"Will you stop flirting?" He hissed, closing his eyes.

"Do you want me to? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Dean said, and Cas could hear the ring of sincerity in his voice. He opened his eyes a bit, looking at Dean warily.

"Shouldn't you go make some friends over there?" He asked, gesturing towards the table where the football players sat. He didn't answer Dean's question because he didn't have an honest answer. He didn't know what he wanted.

Okay, so that was a lie. He actually really liked being flirted with. A couple of girls had tried to flirt with him before, and he could honestly say that it wasn't an enjoyable experience. But being flirted with by Dean just felt so much more natural... It didn't feel like Dean was forcing it, unlike the girls. He seemed like a really straight-forward guy.

"Nope, I'm good right here." He said stubbornly. Castiel sighed and didn't respond, lifting his apple to his lips as he took a large bite out of it. The bitterness of the peel mixed with the sweet flesh of the apple, the flavor literally defining bitter-sweet. He glanced over to see Dean looking at him.

"Ugh, health food. I'm more of a burgers and fries guy myself." He said, patting his stomach. Castiel chewed slowly, swallowing and holding up a finger while doing so.

"I eat whatever, I'm not typically picky about it. I suppose I do stick to 'health food', though." He said, shrugging his shoulder a bit. He leaned back against the tree, flinching as the bark of it rubbed up against his wings. He shifted a few times to get comfortable, relaxing before he took another bite of his apple.

"I could never do it." Dean said. He brought out a cinnamon roll (that explains why he smelled like cinnamon; Castiel found himself wondering if that was a permanent thing or truly just the roll) and opened it up, reaching in and taking it out.

"You want a bite? He offered, holding it out to Castiel. He eyed it warily for a second, indecisive. On one hand, they'd just met, and sharing food was a clear sign of friendship, which he wanted no part of. On the other, the smell of cinnamon and butter swirled through the air, and his mouth watered.

"Come on." Dean urged. Castiel's self-control broke, and he leaned forward to wrap his lips around the roll and take a small chunk for himself. He pulled away slowly, admiring the taste of cinnamon. He glanced at his apple before holding it up, offering the unbitten side to Dean. Dean shrugged and leaned forward, taking a bite out of it.

They both ate in silence after that, and it felt oddly comfortable for two people that barely knew each other.

Fourth period came, and Dean fell into step with Castiel as they walked together. Things were quiet again.

Cas liked the quiet.

The period seemed to fly by, the minutes just melting away as the teacher talked. The teacher was pretty lax on most things, but neither started passing notes, so it just didn't end up happening. Castiel picked up his Egyptian mythology book, opening it up and reading a random entry, whatever he opened up to.

"Amit the Devourer?" Dean questioned, pointing to a picture of the beast. Castiel paused for a moment before slowly shaking his head yes and looking at Dean in question. The mythology teachers at the school would hardly know that, Egyptian was not a commonly studied past religion. Or, at least not like the standard Greek and Roman that seemed to be all the students at his school knew. "I told you, my brother is into this stuff. He talks about it all the time, and I just listen really well. I think you two would get along." He commented, answering Castiel's unvoiced questioning.

"Not many people know about Egyptian." He mumbled. Dean smiled.

"Sammy knows about everything." He said. Castiel saw a certain sparkle in his eyes when he talked about Sammy, something that wasn't there before. He could tell that Dean adored his brother. "He LOVES to talk about all that kind of stuff, especially the little-known things. He's like a walking encyclopedia of weird." Dean laughed, scratching his head a bit. Castiel felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"That sounds nice. How old is he?" He asked. He knew that it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but talking to Dean felt nice. He didn't get to talk much.

"He's a freshman, actually." Dean said. Castiel nodded his head absently. "By the way, how are you a sophomore and in so many junior classes?"

"How did you know I was a sophomore?" Castiel asked. He couldn't honestly remember telling Dean anything about his age.

"Oh, I asked around a little in my third period. There was a guy named Gabriel that knew a little about you." He said. Castiel internally cursed Gabriel, but he knew he didn't mean it. He was happy with the way things were turning out, up to a certain extent. Though he still thought that Dean was going to disappear at any given moment.

"Well, I was advanced, but they didn't want to actually skip me a grade." He said, smiling a little awkwardly. Dean snorted again.

"Figures you'd be smart." He said. Castiel wasn't sure wether he should take it as a compliment or not, but he did so anyways. Dean seemed nice enough.

That was when the teacher handed out a work sheet. He groaned, grabbing it defeatedly and beginning to write lazily, not really caring about the words on the paper. Unfortunately, he was working on it right up to the bell.

"I'll see ya later." Dean said. Castiel numbly shook his head, shoving his things in his bag. Why was he sad that Dean was leaving? He should be happy, the boy was a nuisance!

"Later." He said, grabbing his books off of his desk.

Fifth period was the same old block, but something was different about it today. He kept feeling the eyes of his peers shifting back at him and he heard the lightest of whispers mixed in with him name. He didn't like all of the extra attention, and this was even a small class. He sank down in his seat, the minutes seeming to stretch by like hours as the teacher lectured.

Finally, they were released. He briskly exited the room, thankful to finally have some peace and quiet. He stomped over to his locker and shoved the books that he didn't need for studying into it, just wanting to get home. Today had been exhausting in every aspect of the word.

He slammed his locker shut, the vibration from it still tingling in his fingers as he walked to the bus.

On the way there, he saw something that was unnerving.

Anna, one of the girls from French class, was flirting with Dean. She laughed at some joke Castiel couldn't hear, and then threaded her fingers into his belt loops, pulling him a bit closer. He didn't fight it, simply leaning over her to speak with that dopey smile of his.

NO, it did NOT hurt to see him flirting with her. Castiel was just... Surprised, that was all. It wasn't every day that Anna flirted.

Okay, that was a lie. Anna was a whore, and he felt a little wounded. Happy?

He let his head droop as he kept walking, hoping that he could just go by unnoticed. Things like that never work out for Castiel though, and he took a shaky breath as he heard someone call out his name from behind.

He turned to see that Dean had parted with Anna, and he was jogging over to where Cas stood, books in hand.

"Hey." Dean panted, slowing down his jog into a walk and falling into step beside Castiel. It was a little awkward, but Castiel found it cute. Still, he felt some kind of emotion that he couldn't describe right now, and he wanted to go. He didn't want to talk to Dean.

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to catch a ride with me?" Dean asked, dangling his keys in front of him like some sort of prize. Castiel eyes them momentarily before he looked away, shaking his head no. "Okay, your loss." He said, shrugging.

Dean walked away, and Castiel marched out to the bus, just like he did every morning. He tried to convince himself that everything was normal, that this was no different from any other time, but that was difficult to say the least. He knew that he felt hurt, he just couldn't decode why. Because, he did NOT actually like Dean Winchester. What kind of a fool would like someone they'd only just met that day.

The bus was shaky, which meant that he couldn't read. He cursed the city's maintenance, reading was his only distraction right now! He closed his eyes and tried not to think, but it seemed like everything was swirling together in a mix of denial and emotion. He replayed the scene with Anna at least a hundred times, each time coming to the conclusion that Anna was going to have Dean Winchester, whether he liked it or not. Things couldn't end well.

He arrived home a whole forty-five minutes after school, and he walked in the door briskly, taking only a glance at his drunken father before he marched into his room, throwing his stuff down and flopping down on the bed.

He slowly sank into the soft blankets, closing his eyes and relaxing his body. He didn't actually have any homework tonight, so he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on not thinking about Dean Winchester. One thing lead to another, and soon he was asleep, laying on his bed with his eyes lightly closed and his breath slowed to long pulls of fresh air.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
'He Dreams Of Flying'

**Okay guys, I have a lot of stuff going on right now. It shouldn't interfere with this story since my files are on my ipod, but if I do end up updating late or something I trust you'll all forgive me? Okay, good, good. Enjoy this week's chapter!  
**

**I do NOT own Supernatural, nor do I intend to profit in any way from this fan work.**

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Castiel woke up the next day feeling groggy, his body seeming attached to the bed underneath him. He let out a groan as he glanced at his clock. He had woken up an hour early.  
Knowing that trying to go back to sleep was a lost cause, he slowly stretched, arching off of the bed before softly settling back down, grabbing the spare blanket on the foot of his bed and covering up his torso up in an extra layer, reveling in the warmth. It was honestly much too hot in his little, stuffy room, but Castiel liked to overheat. It was a bit if a dilemma actually, he loved the snow but hated the cold.

He reached for his iPod, fumbling around on the dresser in the dark for a moment before his fingers finally wrapped around the rubber case, and he pulled it towards him eagerly. Using his extra blankets as a prop, he set it gently down on top of the pile and started Sherlock. He didn't get much time for that kind of stuff often, so it was nice to be able to have a moment to relax and do something for himself for a change.

He was on the first episode of the second season, halfway through it actually, when he glanced over at the clock and reluctantly paused it, getting up. He needed to take a shower this morning, it wasn't something that he could skip, because he'd already overslept and missed the opportunity yesterday.

He grabbed his towel and walked across the hallway to the bathroom, making only a quick stop to grab some clean underwear. (He didn't like walking around in just a towel- in a house with someone else, there was always that nagging fear in the back of his mind that he would drop his towel or something and it would be embarrassing for everyone involved.)  
He looked in the full-length mirror, glancing at his reflection. It was one of the things that fascinated him, actually. How you could look into a special glass and suddenly, you were viewing yourself from an outside perspective. He wished that there was a mirror that worked for your actions and feelings, too. It would be so much easier to pinpoint what you were feeling if you could look directly at it.  
Then again, Cas wasn't always sure that he wanted to know what he was feeling.

He slowly slid his pants off, then lifted his shirt above his head one inch at a time, focusing on keeping his wings from springing forth. He managed to keep them relatively still, and he smiled at the triumph. He was getting better at controlling them, despite never actually practicing.

He quickly unclothed the rest of himself, leaving his socks and underwear in a pile by the door.  
He turned on the shower, waiting until the water heated up the proper amount to step into it. He flinched as it hit his wings, every drop seeming to remind him that he was never going to be normal, no matter what he tried.  
Their weight started to increase as they absorbed a small amount of water, and he couldn't resist but shaking them out behind him. He had to admit that it felt good to move around a little bit; his muscles were so stiff...

He groaned a little as he stretched for once, his wings hitting the walls as he did. He angled them upwards more and stretched again, but he still wasn't able to completely stretch. They were six feet long after all. To keep them disguised, he had to wrap his feathers around his stomach and always wear clothing that was three sides too big.  
He reached for the shampoo, applying a generous amount before he started massaging it into his scalp, humming softly. The water trailed down his skin, seeming to pick up his dirt and worry and stress like a snowball running down a hill picks up snow. He slowly relaxed into the water's touch.

His mind wandered around, and suddenly, he was daydreaming. The hallways were crowded and he walked easily, avoiding people like it was his second nature. (Well, it probably was a second nature to Cas by now.) He walked into his French room to find that Dean Winchester was sitting on his desk. He walked over and they started talking, exchanging light conversation and laughing.

He snapped out of it, his hands stopping from where they were working to wash the soap out of his hair.

What? Why did he find himself suddenly imagining talking to Dean? It's not like he enjoyed the other's company, he was annoying as hell! So why did Castiel find himself thinking about him?!

The serenity of his shower was ruined, dang it!

He sighed and finished washing off his body, not bothering to get his wings today. He actually had a small gland at the base of them that produced oil to preen with, but he was just too drained right now. Plus, it wasn't like anybody was going to see the things; he was wearing a shirt.

He patted himself dry and put on his underwear, wrapping a towel around his waist anyways to cross over to his room. He had a couple of shirts and a pair of pants laying out, so he grabbed random things to make an outfit out of. It was a miracle that he managed not to clash.

He wrapped his wings slowly around his body, packing them tightly against his stomach and curling them around to touch his ribs again, overlapping them. He slipped his shirt over his head after that, letting it cover the feathers in a layer of soft fabric. His clothes were always a little thick (except for his gym clothes, but he had to be careful in those), as to hide his wings better. It made it a little too hot, but he had learned to live with it. In fact, he preferred to be hot now.  
He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, grateful that he was able to keep it light weight most days.  
Castiel walked downstairs, walking into the kitchen and locating a large sack of apples that he had managed to scrounge up the money from his grandmother for. She was sweet and still came to visit them every once in awhile, to make sure they were doing okay and that the electricity was paid. It typically was, of course, but Castiel would be lying through his teeth if he said that they always had food. His father worked meager jobs with meager wages, and they could sometimes be few and far between. He had no clue where he got the money for liquor, but it seemed like they always had some of that. The honey-colored stuff and it's empty bottles were constantly littered around the house. Castiel nearly drove himself insane sometimes trying to pick all of it up.

He paused for a moment, biting his lip. He was hungry now and he really should eat breakfast, but he didn't know if he really wanted to. He was scared that he'd end up missing the bus if it took too long, and he didn't want to be stuck on the bus with an apple core he was unable to throw away.

He heard the bus stop a few houses down and his decision was made for him. He shoved both of them into his lunch bag and ran out the door, glad that he had grabbed his trench coat before he came downstairs.

He climbed onto the bus panting a little, cursing those tall steps to get in. Honestly, kindergarteners rode these things, the least they could do is give the steps an appropriate height!

"Good morning, Castiel." The bus driver said flatly, putting on a show as if she was annoyed. A bit of her usual warm smile slipped through the facade though, and Castiel could see right through it.

"Good morning." He responded, slinging his stuff into the seat before sliding in himself. The doors closed with a woosh of lukewarm air, and they were on the way to school.

He daydreamed on the way there, eyes unfocused and smiling just the slightest as he thought. The doors opened again and his peers all stood, chattering away. He broke from his trance and retrieved his items, scooting quickly out of his seat and briskly walking to the French room.  
He walked back to his seat and sat down, retrieving his mythology book from his backpack and opening it up on his desk. He did his best to look unapproachable.

The minutes ticked by like hours, slow and annoying as hell. He was tense and kept waiting for Dean to walk through the door with a dopey smile or Anna on his arm, but he didn't. The bell ring sounded louder than ever when it sounded, the noise echoing around in Cas's head. He looked around to see if Dean had sat somewhere else, but he found that he was nowhere to be seen.

Castiel wouldn't admit to himself that there was a pinprick of disappointment.

He reached into his bag again, this time retrieving his French text book and opening it up to where he had shoved the paper he was using to answer daily questions. He got it out and his eyes shifted to the board, just in time to see the door swing open with force.

"Sorry I'm late." Came the slightly gruff call from the front of the classroom. His eyes focused in on the form of Dean Winchester, who stood at the front of the room proudly. The teacher narrowed her eyes, gesturing towards the back of the room, towards where Castiel was sitting.

"I'd suggest you go and select your seat, Winchester." She said. Dean nodded his head and walked back to the classroom, bringing along with him the eyes of every student in the medium-sized classroom.

A few of the eyes drifted off, but most people continued to pay rapt attention as he took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it, passing it over to Castiel's desk. The teacher had already turned to the board, but it felt to Castiel like she was the only one that didn't see it. He knew that the rumors would increase today, and he was already surprised that he wasn't hearing them himself. Oh well, he knew today wasn't going to end up the best anyways.

With a sigh, he unfolded the paper.

_'Hey. How are you?'_

_'I'm tired. What about you? Did you... How did things go with Anna?'_

'_Anna? What do you mean?'_ Castiel felt frustration jolt through him. He was just curious gosh darnnit, why did Dean have to play dumb?

_'The girl with red hair, Anna. You were talking to her yesterday.'_ Castiel said. He waited a moment before passing the note back to Dean, and he saw a sultry smirk appear on his face for a second, before it flashed away into a genuine smile as he picked up his pen to respond.

_'Why, are you jealous? ;-)'_ He read. Castiel felt his face darken with color. Of course not! Why the hell would he be jealous? He was just curious! He furiously scribbled down his reply.

_'Of course I'm not, don't be ridiculous! I was just wondering what was going on!'_

_'Well, nothing is "going on." She wanted to talk to me so I walked over and she practically threw herself at me. She seems nice enough, but I don't see anything happening.'_

_'Okay, I was just asking.'_ Castiel said. He tried to ignore the relief that what Dean said had brought. He was confused by it; he didn't even like this boy, didn't want to tolerate him in the least bit. The fact that he wasn't whoring himself around shouldn't have come as a relief to Castiel.

_'But if _**_you_**_ wanted to flirt with me, that would be a different story.' _Dean wrote, then tossed it back to Castiel. Castiel looked blankly at the note, the crimson from earlier starting to come back into his complexion. Almost the entire tip of his ear was bright red, and Dean felt a sort of triumph in getting this reaction out of him.

He wasn't lying, either. He had never really thought about it, but he'd always considered himself bi before... Dean wanted to get to know him, at the very least. Plus, he'd be lying if he said he didn't think Castiel was cute.

Either way, he knew he'd be whatever he needed to for Cas. But there had been a couple of other exceptions, nobody he'd actually been serious about before he met Castiel, but... He'd known he was bi for awhile. He'd just never found a guy before he thought he could be interested in.  
Castiel felt a little bit of anger and a lot of embarrassment from the note. Who did Dean think he was, hitting on him? They'd only known each other for two days, and he was already making advances like this! Towards Castiel, of all people!

_'What exactly are you trying to get at right now? We've known each other for two days. We're you dared to try and make friends with me or something?_' Castiel asked, and then threw the note back, crossing his arms (TOTALLY not pouting) and leaning back in his chair, ignoring the pressure he was putting on his wings.

'_Calm down, dude. No, I wasn't dared to do this, I may be an idiot sometimes but I'm not _**_that_**_ stupid. I just want to get to know you, sorry if I come off a little strong.' _

Castiel read over the note, and as much as he wished he didn't, he felt a little bad for accusing Dean of doing this on a dare. He might be annoying and sarcastic from what Castiel could tell so far, but he wasn't a douche bag.

_'Okay, fine. I'm not really interested in making friends right now.'_ Castiel wrote. He felt a little sad at it, though. He thought he had long been over the pain of the fact that he would have to go without getting too close to anyone, since he had set his own boundaries so long ago, but it still stung a bit to have to say it.

The thing was, he could tell already that Dean was a pusher. Dean would push for more and push to get closer, he'd shove to break down Cas's walls. If the walls came crumbling down, he wasn't sure what he'd do. Dean would run away as soon as he told him about his wings, just like his mother had. Worse, though, Dean could tell other people.

Cas just couldn't take that chance.

_'Well, that's too bad. You're the only one in here I feel like making friends with. So it looks like you're going to be stuck with me.' _Dean said. Castiel growled as he read it. It was arrogant and cocky, but he knew immediately that that was Dean.

Deep down though, he was happy. Dean was already doing something for him that nobody else had yet done. He was trying.

He wasn't going to give up on Castiel. He didn't just turn around and walk away at the first sign of confrontation, but rather faced it head on with his jaw set and intentions of overcoming it. Castiel felt somehow... Special.

_'Okay, but you can't expect me to act like I like you. You're stubbornly annoying.'_

_'Those are some of my best traits you're talking about now, I'm wounded.'_ Dean responded immediately. Castiel groaned as the teacher reached for a large stack of worksheets, passing them out to the students row by row. They slowly made their way back to first Dean and then him, and he knew that this stopped the conversation. He didn't want to have to do the worksheet for homework.

The bell rang all too soon, just as Castiel was finishing up his last problem. Dean was five or six behind him, but he still didn't have much to do.

Castiel picked up his book and rushed out of the classroom, for once not being the last one to leave.

Unfortunately, exactly what he was trying to avoid happened, and Dean somehow fell into step besides him, seemingly unbothered by the furious pace Castiel had set.

He walked into his second period and sat down immediately, paying attention as the teacher started going over the planets and their orbits, stopping to teach some about astronomy and mentioning several of the constellations, including Sagittarius and Pices and all the other horoscope signs. Castiel could honestly say that while he didn't put any stock into it, reading the horoscope was fun sometimes.

"Now class," the teacher announced, "Look at the person next to you." He announced. Castiel turned to his right in desperation, to find that the girl had already turned towards the boy to her right. He gave an exasperated sigh before turning to face Dean, and finding the other to be smiling at him.

"These are your partners for the project I'm assigning." He announced.  
Castiel slumped in his seat, cursing his terrible luck. It looked like there was no escaping the Winchester boy now, he cared too much about his grade.

"I'm going to assign each of you a star constellation, and you're going to have to do research on it. Legends, myths, cultures, bonus points if you can get pictures of it that you've taken yourself." He announced.

Oh no. Castiel knew what this lecture meant; it was going to be an entirely at home project, he could feel it in his bones. Not only would he have to deal with Dean Winchester, but he'd have to deal with him outside of school.  
The teacher picked up a bag and shook it around, eyeing the students. "Now, so none of you can claim that any specific partnering was favorited, I'll have you select one constellation from the bag."

He started walking around, bag outstretched towards the students. One by one the groupings picked the constellations out of the bag, some sighing dejectedly and some of them pumping their fists in the air triumphantly.

Finally, the bag came to rest on the desk in front of Castiel. He leaned forward and tentatively reached his hand into the bag, fishing around for awhile before his fingers closed on a small note. He pulled it out tentatively, eyes flickering to Dean's as he slowly opened the paper and tentatively looked at the writing.

"The Big Dipper." He read out loud. He shrugged a bit at the selection. It wasn't too hard to do research on a star that popular.

"Cool." Dean said, grabbing the paper and looking at it himself for a few seconds, smiling. "Piece of cake."

The teacher rolled his eyes and continued to the next table, and soon everyone had their stars picked out. The teacher walked back to the front of the room, standing in front of his desk and motioning for everyone to quiet down.

"Now, I know that this is going to make a lot of you upset, but it's not due until the week before school ends." He announced. Castiel made a face. He called it. "This will have to be an entirely at-home project."

Collective groans were heard around the room. Castiel himself sighed, putting his head in his hands. He slowly let his hands drop and looked over to see Dean still smiling as was becoming usual.

"Looks like we'll be hanging out after all." He teased, smiling. Castiel rolled his eyes and looked away, slightly annoyed. Oh god, why him?!

Once the teacher was finally done explaining the ramifications of the project, (They had to make a board full of any information they could find- legends, documentations, it was all very vague in order to let them choose what they thought was important) class time was over, and it was time to go to third.

Lunch came faster than he expected, and Castiel found himself sitting underneath his usual tree. It was no surprise that Dean was soon sitting beside him, propped up against the tree, too.

There was a moment of silence, and Castiel reached for his lunch box.

"Listen, I know you don't want to be forced to hang out with me, I get that." Dean said, clearing his throat. Castiel stopped moving and looked at Dean, his quizzical look urging him to continue. "So, since I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do, we can just meet before school to do it, if you'd like."  
Castiel paused, remaining silent. He was hesitant to say anything.  
"Here, a peace offering." Dean said. He reached into his lunch box and brought out two burgers, holding one out to Castiel. Castiel's eyes flickered to the offering. "Since you never get to have junk food, I grabbed two before school this morning."

"Thanks." He said tentatively, reaching out to take it. He wished he could have resisted, but the smell of grease and possible future cholesterol problems was just too tempting. That was when a memory tugged at the back of his mind, something that he'd done...

"Oh, I have two apples!" He said, placing the warm burger on his lap as he opened his own lunch box, retrieving his own offering and holding it out to Dean. Dean reached out warily (he clearly wasn't used to health food) but he still took it. Castiel looked down, and he sighed.

Sharing food. No matter how you looked at it, it was a clear sign of friendship. Dean had wiggled his way too far in too short a time, and Castiel knew that he could do nothing to stop it. Maybe... Maybe he should just give up?

He hadn't tried to have a friend yet. He'd actually had a few people he liked to talk to, so why not let Dean be one of them? It's not like talking to him could blow his secret, and he was still convinced that he would soon get bored and go find someone else to bother.

"No, it's fine. We can meet somewhere outside of school. How about the library on Central?" Castiel asked. He didn't get to go to the library often because it was a long walk, but if it was for school, he would get over it. It would be nice to be able to get some new reading material, too.

"Awesome. When do you want to meet?"

"Well, would you mind meeting on a Saturday?" Castiel asked. He knew that a lot of students couldn't stand doing anything school related on the weekends, and Dean looked like one of those students. He was really hoping that he was wrong though, because it would be a lot easier on him to be able to walk on a weekend, when he'd have the time and could get home before ten.

"Any time that works for you is fine." Dean said with a shrug. Castiel shook his head.

"Okay, then meeting at two this week would be nice." He said, calculating how much time he'd need in his head. He would have to get ready and the library was three miles from his house, which meant it was at least a two hour walk. He would probably leave three hours early just to be safe, and so he'd have time to enjoy the walk. He actually really liked strolling around the neighborhood by himself, because it helped him to think. So he'd get up at ten, take a shower, get dressed, find his library card, and go.

"Of course. Then it's a date." Dean teased, smirking. Castiel felt his face heat up just a smidge, but he was able to stop most of his blush by convincing himself that Dean was only referencing the common turn of phrase.

"Good." Castiel said, taking a bite of his burger. He was really enjoying it, because it was so rare for him to get anything like that. The flavor seemed to stay in his mouth long after he swallowed, and he cut through it by taking a big bite of his apple. It was silent after that, both of them eating rather than speaking.

Fourth period went by pretty fast, but there was no time for them to talk then, either. Castiel actually found himself being a little bit irritated at it. He wanted to talk to Dean, whether he'd admit it or not. Probably not, but still. He'd talked some with Gabriel and Balthazar, so it couldn't hurt to talk to Dean a little bit too. Talking to someone wouldn't give away the fact that he had wings.

Fifth period seemed to drag on forever. The whispers and sly glances in Castiel's direction had gotten worse today if anything, but he didn't actually mind. He found that he was too distracted, his thoughts in the clouds and feeling like he was walking in a dream to really notice. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he just felt happier now. Castiel actually smiled a little.

The bell finally rang, and Cas have a sigh. He gathered up his things and walked out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking down the hallway, stopping by his locker. He was putting his books in when he felt a firm tap on his shoulder, and it made him jump a little. He almost dropped his books, if not for a pair of slightly calloused hands reaching out to steady his wrists right when he was about to drop them. Castiel's eyes drifted up to look straight into Dean Winchester's.

"Hey. I was just coming to see if you wanted to maybe ride home with me today? I figure we can discuss what we want to do for the project along the way, and I can show you some real music if you want." Dean offered. Castile paused.

Well, he had decided that he'd be friendly until Dean got bored and moved on... But on the other hand, it would be the first time he'd ever willingly talked to his classmates outside of school. He considered his options briefly.

He was going to have to hang out with Dean outside of school this Saturday anyways, to talk about their star project. So, it couldn't really do any harm, could it?

"I guess." He said, shrugging. Dean smiled and Castiel put his books back in his locker, shutting it and securing the lock on it before he turned towards Dean, his mostly empty bag slung around his shoulder.

"Let's go." Dean said, waving Castiel forward. He followed Dean, weaving in and out of the students as they walked to the front doors.

The wind but into Castiel's face as they walked across the parking lot, and he shivered a bit. It was summer, but it felt like fall out today. He was used to being warm, so the chill of the wind flew him for a bit of a loop. When they finally got to Dean's car, (the idiot had parked in the very back) he was eager to get in.

Of course, he had to pause for a moment to admire what he would be riding in. It was an entirely black, shiny, wide, four-doored car with the Chevy logo proudly stuck on the front bumper. Castiel didn't know much about cars, but he knew that this was a good one.

Dean unlocked it and slid in, leaning over to open Castiel's door. He stepped into the front seat, inhaling the scent of pine air freshened and leather seats. An old looking radio sat proudly between the two front seats, and it looked worn around the edges from where CD after CD had been jammed into the console.

"You like?" Dean asked, gesturing around the car. Castiel slowly nodded his head yes, still struggling to take all of it in. Dean had a nice car, that was for sure. "It's a '67 Chevy impala." He elaborated proudly.

"Oh, I think my grandfather had an impala. It was a different year though, if I remember correctly." Castiel mumbled the last part.

"No year like '67, but he still must've had a nice taste in cars." Dean said approvingly, leaning back. He started up the engine with a low purr from the car. He glanced over to notice Castiel's book bag still clutched tightly in his hands, and Dean noticed that it looked a little uncomfortable with the thing sitting on his lap. "You can throw that in the back, if you want." He said.

Castiel obliged, lifting it over the console and into the backseat as Dean started to roll out of the parking lot.

"Aren't you going to buckle up?" Castiel asked as he reached back and grabbed his own seat belt, securing it around his waist. Dean let out a snort.

"God no. Why would I?" He asked.

"Reckless." Castiel muttered, turning to look out the window as they drove out of the parking lot.

Dean laughed again, his hands effortlessly turning the wheel to glide the car out onto the open road.

"You ready to hear some real music?" Dean asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Castiel turned back at him and nodded his head slowly, before turning and looking out the window again. The heard some beeps and the sound of a CD case being opened, and before he knew it, a guitar solo was drifting through the speakers. He listened closely, hearing the words as well as the catchy tune. Apparently, the song was called "Wanted", and it seemed to be okay to Castiel. This was not new of course; Castiel didn't know much about music, but he did know how to distinguish whether or not something had been auto tuned. This had a sort of old timey feeling that he liked, too. He could hear actual instruments individually, instead of the usual mix of melody.

Dean's hands hit the steering wheel in time with the music, his head bobbing along as they drove in silence.

After awhile, the song changed, and Dean turned down the radio a few notches, looking over at Cas.

"So, what do you think? I promised I'd show you some real music, how's that?" He asked. Castiel lifted his head from where it was sitting on top of his arm to give him a clear view of the window, and he turned to Dean.

"I really enjoyed that. It sounded nice." He said, nodding his head. The leaves on the trees outside were blowing with the wind, and it almost made it seem like they were dancing along with the song.

"I knew you would." Dean said, smiling. His hands resumed their beating to the rhythm for a couple more measures, "So, what are you thinking for this star project we have to do? Ideas?"

"Well, not particularly." Castiel said, shrugging. "We could do an informative poster, if you'd like." He suggested. Dean didn't look too keen on the idea.

"I don't want to do that, everyone will be doing that." Dean said, turning his head to the side a bit. "Got anything more creative?" He hinted. Castiel paused, thinking.

"Well, not really." He mumbled, blushing a bit. Now that he thought of it, the poster idea was a little but cliché, especially for a student of his level. He should do something that hadn't been done a million times before.

"We'll come up with something." Dean suggested, shrugging a bit. Castiel relaxed at the reassurance. He might not be the creative type, but Dean was.

"Okay." Castiel said. There was something tugging at the back of his brain right now though, something was bothering him... "WAIT!" He shouted, the revelation coming to him. Dean seemed unaffected by his outburst. "I never told you where I live!" He said, suddenly scared. A million scenarios flashed through his head, most of them ending with his lifeless body laying in a ditch somewhere by the side of the road.

"Calm down." Dean chuckled. "I wasn't gonna take you home right away. I thought you might want to get pizza." He offered.

"Pizza?" Castiel repeated flatly, his fear slowly fading away. It was still there, but it was less prominent. At least he knew that Dean wasn't for sure going to chop his body up into little pieces.

"You have heard of pizza, right?" Dean asked, teasing. Castiel scoffed, giving Dean his best scowl.

"Of course, don't be ridiculous. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Well, I figured we should get your diet evened out between the good and the bad. You're way too healthy now man, if you don't get some cholesterol in your system, you're gonna live to be like a hundred and twenty. You know what you get when you're a hundred and twenty?" Dean asked. Castiel remained silent, waiting for Dean to finish his rant. Dean lowered his voice and looked Castiel in the eye, as if what he were about to say was the worst fate that could befall a person. "Erectile disfunction."

Castiel shook his head, putting his face in his hands and trying not to laugh. He couldn't help but smile though, just a little bit.

"Well then, if you were asking, I suppose getting pizza with you would be okay." Castiel said, smiling. What was he doing? He couldn't honestly remember the last time before today that he'd smiled, much less with someone who was almost a stranger. They'd known each other for a total of two days.

"Good, because I was gonna kidnap you anyways." Dean teased. Of course he didn't mean it, but it was fun to see Cas's glare towards him at the statement, especially when he was still fighting against the urge to smile. The corners of his mouth were upturned just the slightest bit.

"Good thing I said yes, because I would hate to have to call the police on my project partner." He retaliated. Dean didn't fight the smile that spread across his face, seeming to light up his whole figure with happiness.

"This place has some of the best pizza in town." He said, making a right turn. Castiel didn't even notice that they were anywhere near any kind of a store until they were turned into a small, hole-in the wall restaurant about ten miles out of town. It was attached to a couple of smaller antique stores and a candy shop, giving it all a very homey feeling. Castiel quite liked it.

Dean shut off the car and glance over at Castiel, gesturing for him to climb out and follow him into the restaurant. They walked trough the wooden doors and Castiel looked around, taking in the scene.

The lighting was low as music played in the background, a few small tables and a corner of booths all in a row were dotted modge podge here and there, giving it a sort of unorganized look. A teenage boy with a distasteful haircut was behind the counter that served as a bar, cleaning out some glasses.

"Hey, Ash." Dean said. Okay, so apparently mullet-boy's name was Ash. That was actually a pretty cool name, or at least Castiel thought so. Also apparent, Dean knew him from somewhere.

"Hey, Deeeean." He said, looking up from the glass that he was polishing to smile. Dean smiled back at him, tilting his head a little as if to ask a silent question. "Yeah, the boss finally trusts me enough to let me bartend." He affirmed, smirking. "But I'm not gonna risk that by getting anything for your underaged rear end, before you ask."

"I wasn't gonna ask. In case you haven't noticed, I have a guest." Dean clarified, gesturing towards Castiel. Ash's eyes refocused to center in on him, making Cas slightly uncomfortable with his scrutinizing gaze.

"Well, he's not your usual type." Ash commented, shrugging. "But of course I noticed him, I'm not stupid, and he is almost as tall as you." He commented. Dean laughed, his features lighting up as he threw his head back. This seemed to be a running joke between them.

"Hey, you're about his height." Dean said. Ash rolled his eyes.

"Oh, shut up and go sit down. I'll be over to take your order in just a second." Ash commented, gesturing towards the booth in the very back corner. Dean grabbed Castiel's wrist lightly, urging but not forcing him to follow back to the seat. He sat down and got settled before kicking his feet up beside Castiel, as they were across from each other in the booth.

Something that ash had said had left Castiel a little bit unnerved. Sean's typical type? Did that mean that he took a lot of people here? Somehow, Castiel found himself a little hurt by the thought of not being anything special. Then again, that was a good thing. It meant that Dean really would get bored easily, and then he'd be free of the annoyance.

"Alright, what would you like?" Ash asked, leaning over and onto their table.

"Two cokes and a medium pepperoni." Dean said, reaching out to flick Ash on the forehead. Ash flipped him off before walking off to the kitchen to put in the orders.

"So, I grant it that you know him?" Castiel mused, turning back to Dean from where he had watched Ash. Dean shrugged.

"Before we moved here, my dad had gone through this town about a million times, and he ended up befriending the girl who owns this place. Her name's Ellen, and she's been real nice to Ash. I've been here a couple of times over the year or two I've been traveling with Dad."

"Oh, Ellen sounds nice." Castiel said. Dean snorted, smiling.

"Oh, she is. You just have to get used to her first. She's tough for owning a restaurant. Probably the bar side of thing's kept her on her toes." Dean elaborated.

"Well, she would have to deal with drunkards. Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Castiel scowled, glaring at Dean. "You know what I mean."

"Okay, yeah." Dean said.

"Why isn't Ash at school with us? He looks like he would be our age."

Castiel said, mulling it over. This place couldn't be but ten minutes from the school, there was no way he was in another district.

"Ash is homeschooled. He teaches himself and Ellen supervises. Same with Ellen's daughter, Jo." Dean said. Just then, Ash emerged from the kitchen carrying two cokes. He set one down in front if each of the boys, his expression slightly playful.

"You talkin' bout me?" He asked Dean, raising his eyebrows. Dean smiled a little, shaking his head yes.

"About how you're too stupid to go to a regular school, yeah." Dean responded. Ash shook his head, giving a sigh.

"Alright then, guess someone wants their food spit in." He teased, walking off to the kitchen again.

"He was just joking, just so you know." Dean assured Castiel. "But he's actually homeschooled because the kid's a legal genius. They tried to put him in the public school system and he caused a lot of trouble for the teachers. He's the next Einstein." Dean said, taking a sip of his coke. Castiel reached out to grasp his cup, imitating Dean's sip. It had been awhile since he'd had pop.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, our school system isn't exactly top notch." Castiel said, smiling a bit. He was far more advanced than a lot of the people who claimed to be top notch; his school had little to no funding at times and the students test grades were often poor.

"So, again," Dean said, changing the topic, "What kid of mythology do you typically study?" He asked. Castiel paused, thinking.

"Well, I do a lot of Egyptian. I'm a big fan of Norse." He said. Dean nodded his head slowly, leaning forward to take another sip before he replied.

"Yeah, you and Sammy would get along just fine." Dean laughed, smiling. "I know a little about Norse, they believe that their apocolypse is gonna be sometime in the next year or two, right?" He asked. "Sammy's a little freaked about it, because he said that they were very intelligent people, even if their gods were rubbish."

"Yeah, that's right." Castiel said, nodding his head. Dean opened his mouth to respond, but their pizza came. He thanked Ash before digging in, taking three pieces for himself.  
Castiel didn't eat much as the silence stretched on, comfortable between them. He took another sip of his coke as Dean sat back, having cleared his plate. In the end, there were three slices left.

"I'll take the rest home to Sammy." He muttered, gesturing for Ash to come over and then asking for a to-go box. Ash groaned.

"Dude, you know I have to find where Ellen puts those every single time!" He announced, clearly annoyed. Dean just smiled and repeated himself, and Ash walked back to the kitchen, leaving their check on the table.

Castiel reached for his wallet, remembering that his grandma had given him ten dollars and knowing that it would be rude to leave Dean trying to pay the whole bill.

"Hey, I got it." Dean assured, stopping Castiel from putting the money on the table. Castiel paused, tentatively putting it back in his wallet. He could probably use the extra money on something he needed, and Dean did sort of force him to come. Suddenly, Dean's eyes lit up as he looked around.

"I love this song!" He exclaimed. Castiel felt himself get dragged out of the chair, and he only had a moment to compose himself before Dean was facing him with a goofy smile on his face.

"Do you want to dance?" Dean offered, holding out a hand like a gentleman. Castiel hesitated, glancing around. It was an empty room, so no embarrassment that way, but...

"I've never actually danced before." He admitted sheepishly, shaking his head.

"Come on, it's easy." Dean urged, wrapping his hands around Castiel's waist. Cas felt his face go deep crimson, and he had the urge to either run out of the room or push Dean off.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked, and Dean smiled even wider. Castiel was starting to feel Dean's body heat mingling with his own, and it was making it hard to think.

"Come on, Ash won't be out for another ten minutes. Dance with me." Dean urged. Castiel hesitated for a moment, his knees starting to go a little weak before he dumbly nodded his head a bit, giving up and wrapping his arms lightly around Dean's neck.  
Dean started to slowly sway them to the rhythm of the music, back and forth with the beat. Castiel swore that he could feel their hearts beat in sync as they slowly swayed, and their eyes met in the dim light. For once, Dean didn't wear a smile, but he looked serious. Castiel felt a little bit overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and be vaguely registered that the cinnamon scent wasn't just a one time thing; it was just a part of Dean.  
It felt like he was staring right into Cas's soul.

Slowly, Dean leaned forward, placing his lips by Castiel's ear. Cas was barely able to hold back a shiver.

"See? This wasn't so bad." He said, before slowly beginning to pull away, reestablishing the distance between their bodies. Dean cleared his throat, and Castiel was certain that he was shaking from fear and excitement.  
A couple seconds later, Ash busted through the doors with the to-go container in his hands. He looked at Dean and Castiel standing in the middle of the floor and he raised his eyebrows for a moment, setting the to-go box down on their table.

"Hope you two didn't get too friendly." He said, walking back over to the bar.

"Yeah yeah yeah. I don't even know if Cas is like that." Dean said, then turned back to Cas.

"Like what?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, gay or bi or whatever those other things are. I don't know if you like guys."

"Oh." Castiel said, nodding a bit.

"Well, do you?" Dean asked. Castiel paused, thinking for a moment. Well, he didn't exactly have much experience with dating.

"I honestly don't know." He admitted sheepishly, "Do you? Like boys?"

"Yeah, I'm bi." Dean admitted, walking over to the table and putting in the leftovers. Ash smiled a bit, narrowing his eyes.

"He says he's bi, but you're the only guy I've ever seen him with. You better feel special." He teased. Castiel felt the color from beforehand return to his face.

"Come on, let's go. I'm sure you want to get home." Dean said, walking around Castiel and holding open the door for him. Dean was right, if his father was half sober he'd probably be worried sick right now. That was a very slim chance, but still, better safe than sorry. Castiel needed to get home.

"Goodbye, Ash." Castiel said, walking out the door. Ash shouted his response, and Dean followed Cas out the door.

They climbed into the truck and Dean threw the leftovers into the backseat, sitting them next to Castiel's backpack. Castiel told Dean his address, and they drove to his house in silence.

"So, I guess this is goodbye." Dean said, looking over at Castiel. Cas nodded his head, looking over at Dean. There was a moment where it was all silence as they looked into each other's eyes. Castiel felt his eyes flicker down to Dean's lips to admire them, but he quickly looked away with a blush. That was stupid, he shouldn't be thinking about Dean's lips like that!

"Goodnight." He mumbled, opening the door.

"Goodnight." Dean said, nodding as Castiel climbed out of the door, walking around the car to grab his backpack out of the back seat. "If you ever want another ride, it's up for grabs. I had a lot of fun."

"Thanks. I had fun, too." Castiel said, surprised by his own honesty. He actually really liked the whole thing, he had fun hanging out with Dean. He found himself wanting to do it again sometime.

"Good. See ya at school." Dean said. Castiel shut the door, backpack slung over his shoulder, and walked to his front door. Before he opened it, he turned around and waved at Dean.  
That, he supposed, was the start of his first real friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay guys, I've decided to update early because I'm going to be gone all day tomorrow at the Wizard World convention! I'm going to be a crappily done redheads version of Fem! Dean Winchester, it's my first Cosplay so I'm excited. Just so you all know, the stuff I had going on at the time of the last chapter has severely died down; things are a LOT better** **than they were previously estimated to be. So yeah. I may be moving soon though... But honestly I'm up for it. It's been a year since last time we moved so we've not been here very long and other than a few close friends I'm honestly not very attached. But enough about that, time for the chapter!**

**Oh, also I did more editing to this chapter than I did to the last~ So it should be better. Hopefully.**

**I do NOT own Supernatural. I have no rights to Castiel and Dean. Please support Supernatural by going and watching an episode if you have not already. They can be found on Netflix or on the official CW web page.**

Chapter 3  
He Dreams Of Flying

It was Saturday morning, and Castiel lay in his bed in silence. He didn't want to get up, but he wanted to see Dean. He had been up almost all night last night pacing around, excited for today. He was tired, but still overall excited.

Over the past few days, Dean had managed to fall into Castiel's routine. He wasn't too pushy for information, he didn't force Cas to talk when he didn't want to, but they had a comfortable kind of familiarity that had developed naturally, and it was hard not to have fun when they were with each other. Castiel found himself looking forward to seeing Dean, despite his previous reluctance.

Dean didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. Cas had originally thought that he'd get bored and go make friends with someone else, but it turned out that they actually had a little in common, so the conversation was always fresh and interesting. Castiel loved it when Dean would talk about mythology with him, it Was often the highlight of his day. Especially with how much Dean seemed to know. Cas was now intent on eventually meeting Sam, who apparently preferred to walk home from school rather than catch a ride in the impala. If Dean was this educated from just talking to him, he must be a literal genius about stuff like that.

Cas forced himself out of bed, emptying his backpack and only putting back in his science book and his library card.

As soon as he was done, he grabbed his towel and some clean underwear, heading to take a shower. Because he had extra time, he decided to preen his wings. After he got out, he went through his clothes, for once wearing a t-shirt and a vest, rather than a bulky sweater. After a moment of thought, he grabbed his blue tie and tightened it around his neck. Of course, he didn't know how to actually tie a tie, so it was a little off, but oh well.

After that, he fluffed up his hair, making it messy on purpose. He had no reason to fix it because it would just end up frazzled anyways, so he had no reason to try and make it look presentable. It's not like he cared what Dean thought.

Plus, he happened to know that Dean thought messy hair was cute.

He grabbed his trench coat and slung it on, grabbing his bag as he walked out the door. There was a pleasant breeze that carried to him as he started to briskly walk along on the sidewalk, enjoying the smell of grass and greenery as he did. It was still a little chilly at night, but the heat had gone up dramatically over the past few days, and flowers were starting to bloom everywhere. It made his walk very enjoyable, despite maybe being a little bit warm and multiple miles.

On the way there, he thought. The silence helped him to organize his feelings and shove them into neat little cabinets to be dealt with later. He closed his eyes and he was in a different place, a place that had snow on the ground so he didn't feel out of place wearing multiple layers.

Then, Dean was there. This had become the normal for his fantasies now; Dean had become part of what would make him happy. At first, when it was happening repeatedly, he was concerned. He was afraid that he would be letting Dean too close now, because he wanted him to be a part of his life. However, Castiel repressed the fear, convincing himself that it would all be fine. He buried it, because no matter what he said, he knew that he couldn't push Dean away again now, not unless something alarmingly dangerous happened. Dean was a part of his life now. Dean was his first real friend.

They were walking side by side, much like he was doing now, alone. The sun was setting over some mountains in the distance, and Castiel knew that they were headed to a quaint little pub that Ash would surely be running.  
That was when Dean reached out and gently grabbed his hand, saving it from the chill of the air. Castile felt his cheeks go red, heating up his face. Dean leaned over to give him a light peck on the cheek.

Castiel snapped out of the fantasy, his cheeks now burning red. What was he doing, imagining that?! Dean was just a friend to him, Castiel didn't like him that way and he never would!

Castiel walked a little faster, ignoring the flutter of his heart from imaging Dean's lips on his cheek. He was acting like a love struck school girl, and he was none of those words.  
He walked a little faster, letting his mind wander to and fro as he approached the library. At about one thirty, he finally arrived. His walk had taken longer than he had expected, but at least he was still a little early, despite being exhausted from physical activity coupled with his lack of sleep.

He couldn't help but inhale deeply when he stepped into the mahogany doors, loving the scent of old books and paper. There was just a certain smell that you couldn't get from being anywhere but here, surrounded by shelves of knowledge and tales of adventure. It was all very hopeful, and one of Castiel's favorite places to be.  
He walked back to the young adult section, figuring that it had been awhile since he read any fiction. These days he was focusing on Mythology, and it had left him missing reading stories of the impossible. One of his favorite stories was Harry Potter; he'd read the entire series twice.  
He picked up a thick book, turning it a little to read the name printed on the spine. '_City of Bones._' He was fairly sure that this one had been made into a movie or was going to, and he'd heard some good reviews on it. So, he picked it up and walked over to one of the empty chairs, opening it up and beginning to read the story of a girl called Clair.

After a few minutes though, his exhaustion caught up with him. His eyes started to droop and he faltered when reading, and the lights in the room seemed to get dimmer. He figured that it couldn't hurt to rest his eyes for a few moments, so he tenderly set his book down next to him. He swung his feet up into the large chair and laid his head on the armrest.

It wasn't a minute later that he was sleeping like a baby.

A soft poke came to Castiel's side, and he bolted up to find himself staring right into the green eyes of Dean Winchester himself.

"Well hey there Cas. Feeling tired?" Dean teased, crouched besides Castiel's chair. Cas sat up, stretching to relieve his stiff muscles as he woke up. "I brought some food for us."

"I actually brought some apples too, if you want." Castiel offered, remembering that he had snuck a few in his bag before he headed out the door. Dean shook his head back and forth.

"What is with you and apples?" Dean asked, smiling. "You're practically a horse, you know that?"

"You callin me fat?" Castiel retaliated playfully, standing. Dean laughed but didn't respond to the accusation, gesturing for Cas to follow him as he moved back towards the front of the library.

On one of the many tables sat a fast food bag and a couple of astronomy books Dean had dug up.

Castel walked over, setting the '_City Of Bones' _book off to the side while he did. His bag bumped his hip lightly with every step he took until he finally settled down in a chair, reaching into it and pulling out a couple of apples for him and Dean. Dean opened up the fast food bag and brought out a bacon cheeseburger and a medium fry, tossing the burger over to Cas and placing the fries between them before he grabbed a second burger for himself.

Most days Dean brought two burgers to lunch, and Cas brought two apples to share. Sometimes one of them would scrounge up something else too-a cinnamon roll or something like that- and they'd share that, too. It just became routine after awhile.

"I figured we could spilt the fries, easier than getting two small ones." He said with a shrug. Castiel dug into his burger, smiling when the taste of artificial cheese overpowered his taste buds. It was a delectable flavor, well, to Castiel. A little overwhelming, but still nice.

He cut the flavor by reaching out and grabbing a couple fries, smiling at Dean.

Dean smiled back fondly as they ate in silence, and Cas pulled out a water bottle. He took a sip and placed it on the table. Dean, of course, immediately grabbed the thing and took a drink to himself, smiling playfully at Cas the entire time. He waited until Cas had swallowed his current bite and his lips were on the bottle again before he said anything.  
"You know, that's technically an indirect kiss." He teased. Castiel almost spit out the water that he had drank, but he managed to keep it down and he swallowed it, coughing a bit.

"What?" He demanded, his eyes widening. Dean was wearing a sultry smirk.

"I said, that's technically an indirect kiss. Your lips touched where my lips touched." He clarified, gesturing towards the bottle. Cas sputtered, and Dean lazily leaned back and took another bite of his burger.

Castiel's face went as red as was humanly possible as he sunk down in his seat, and he felt butterflies start in his stomach. Of course, he didn't know why they were called butterflies; they felt more like a swarm of angry bees when he was right in front of the person that gave them to him.

"So?" He asked defiantly. Dean shrugged, but he caught Castiel's gaze, and suddenly his nonchalance was replaced by a look of curiosity.

"You have been kissed before, right?" Dean clarified, raising his eyebrows. Castiel shrugged and looked away, hoping that he could evade the question. "Right?"

"No." He sighed, slowly looking up to meet Dean's gaze. Dean's jaw dropped open, and he blinked a couple of times, sitting back in his chair.

"You've really never kissed anyone. As in, ever?" He questioned. Castiel got a little agitated, that was what he had just said, wasn't it?

"Yes, Dean." He said, frowning. Dean paused, still having the awestruck look stuck on his face like it was the most surprising thing he'd ever heard.

"Sorry." Dean said, sensing Castiel's annoyance with the subject, "I just figured that with how attractive you are you would've had girls and boys lining up."

"I've had people flirt with me before. I'm a little unapproachable though, in case you hadn't noticed." Castiel said, blushing even deeper. Dean had called him attractive. Actually, it had been one of the first times anyone had done so. After his first few rejections, the girls stopped bothering him and focused on more acquirable targets.

"Well I don't think so." Dean said, still looking perplexed. Castiel sat up a little straighter, waiting for Dean to drop the eye contact that they had. Their eyes stayed locked for a good five more seconds, slowly building tension before Dean finally broke away, the intensity of the stare getting to be too much.

"Alright, let's start working on this project." Castiel said, grabbing one of the books and opening it up to the table of contents. Dean leaned forward and looked at what Castiel was doing for a moment before he grabbed one of the books himself and started to leaf through it.

After a few minutes of concentrating, Dean interrupted the silence with a clear of his throat.

"You know, my little brother told me an old Cherokee legend about the Big Dipper." Dean said, leaning forward. Castiel looked up from the book, suddenly intrigued. Dean was leaning towards him over the table, and the room felt a lot smaller when he looked into Dean's eyes. It felt like it was just the two of them, and more than that, it felt a little bit magical, the sparkle in Dean's eyes. He was eager to tell the story, and Castiel was eager to listen.  
Castiel shut his book, leaning over the table closer to Dean. Despite fighting to keep his expression neutral, he felt a small smile stretch itself across his face.

"Do tell." He urged, and Dean smiled in return.

"Well, I'm sure you know by now that the Cherokee held animals in great regard. More specifically, wolves and bears." Dean started. Castiel shook his head. He'd done a little bit of research on Cherokee before he transitioned to Asia. He hadn't done much research on the Indians, but he'd done enough to know that both wolves and bears were considered great and mighty creatures. Even creatures such as rabbits and squirrels were considered valuable. "Well, there was a bear that was continuously destroying one of their villages, and the people were suffering greatly because it took a lot of their food and stuff."

Castiel nodded his head again, letting Dean's gruff voice carry him along as he told the story. Castiel found himself enjoying listening to a story being told instead of reading it himself. Dean's voice was nice to listen to.

"So these four brothers decided that they were gonna go and hunt the thing, and save their village. They start tracking it, only to find out that it was a magic bear." Dean said. Castiel nodded his head eagerly, urging him to continue. "So, they knew that it still had to be killed, so they kept tracking it. They actually tracked it all the way up to the stars- since it was magic or whatever, it could go there and lead them there, too. Well anyways, one of the brothers was fat and lazy, so he decided to go ahead and pretend that he had hurt his ankle so his other brothers would have to carry him, which would make the whole thing considerably more difficult but whatever, they weren't getting any closer to the thing anyways. So, they carried their brother and carried him, and eventually, the bear got tired and slowed down. Now since time apparently works differently in the cosmos, almost an entire year had passed back on earth.

"The one who had pretended to be injured got sick of being useless or something like that and he climbed out of his brother's arms, now fully energized. So, he lunged forward and killed the bear. They all feasted for a job well-done.

"However, they had forgotten that the bear was magic. As soon as they had picked all the meat off of it's bones, it came back. It ran away, and they started tracking it again. According to legend, the same thing has been happening over and over again ever since then in the stars. The ladle bottom is considered the bear, and the stars of the handle are considered to be the brothers." Dean finished.

Castiel clapped a little, impressed by Dean's story-telling capabilities.

"That's great." He laughed, smiling widely. Dean shrugged and straightened up a bit, looking smug. "We should incorporate that legend into our project somehow."

"I knew you'd like it." Dean teased, smiling again. Castiel shook his head back and forth before he pulled himself away from Dean, sitting down flat and opening the book again, reading random facts about the Big Dipper and other related constellations.

"So, do you have anything else you want to incorporate into the project?" Dean questioned after a moment of silence. Castiel slowly looked up from his book and shook his head, hearing in Dean's tone that he had a reason for asking.

"Well, why don't we go and see if we can find anything to give us some inspiration?" He offered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, slightly intrigued.

"Well, I mean that we should drive around a little bit. You wouldn't let me drive you home yesterday, after all." Dean teased.

It was true. Castiel had decided after some thought that he shouldn't ride with Dean every day, and he'd ridden the bus Wednesday and Friday.

Castiel thought it over. He had a relevant reason- the project- so it would be business. It wasn't like Dean was asking him on a date- they would simply drive around, maybe make some stops, and get inspiration for the project. Which he desperately needed since his teacher had high hopes of him.

"Sure. Let's go check out these books and we'll hit the road." Castiel suggested, nodding his head. They grabbed their books- both the ones on stars and the pleasure-reading book that Castiel had gotten, and walked up to the checkout.

Once they were done with that, Dean held the impala's passenger door open for Castiel, waiting for him to climb in and throw his stuff in the back.

As soon as they were both seated, (Castiel buckled up, mind you) Dean put the keys in and turned her on, the radio starting up with the car. The Eye of the Tiger was blaring out its tune while he started down the open road, passing house after house with picket white fences and children playing in the yard.

"So, Cas," Dean said, after about ten minutes of driving, "What do you think you want to be when you grow up?" Dean asked, trying to make small talk.

Castiel thought. He honestly hadn't put much thought into the future, preferring to stay focused on the present. It was a thought-provoking question, though. What did he want to do with his life?

Well, everyone was always telling him that he needed to make sure he was happy. So, he thought about what made him happy. Reading, writing occasionally, seeing new things. What did he think about when he closed his eyes? He dreamed of traveling around the world, finally out of his (metaphorical, of course,) cage. He wanted freedom and the ability to explore more than anything, and that was what he would look for in a job.

"I'm not really sure. Maybe I'll travel around the world and study folklore?" He said, making it sound like more of a question. He couldn't help but question it- it was insane, hoping for a job like that. Not many people could go into that kind of a field and make enough money to survive. Chances were he would spend most of his life unemployed.

"That sounds nice. I always thought it would be fun to see the world." Dean commented, taking his eyes off of the road for a moment to look at Castiel.

"Well, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Castiel asked. Dean's slightly upturned lips changed into a frown. He turned away from Castiel and focused his eyes back on the road, clearing his throat.

"I'll probably just do something, I don't know right now. All I know is that I don't want to live behind a boring white picket fence." He mumbled, looking out towards the rows of seemingly perfect houses. "Well, at least not until I'm old."

"Yeah, I understand that." Castiel said, not going to push for more. He could tell that Dean didn't feel like sharing whatever was on his mind, and that was okay. Castiel would let him tell him when he was ready, or maybe even not at all.

They kept driving, and suddenly the scenery changed into some backwoods and a more familiar setting. Castiel narrowed his eyes, suspicion crawling in. Was... Was Dean taking him back to that stupid bar they had went to on Tuesday?

"Dean, are we going back to that bar?"

"Oh, you mean the roadhouse? Maybe." He said, smiling secretively. Castiel rolled his eyes as they pulled into the joint, and Dean got out in a flash to walk around and open Castiel's door.

Castiel stepped out, enjoying the pleasant spring breeze on his face. Dean walked up to the roadhouse and opened the doors again, stepping aside for Castiel to walk through first. Ash was working the counter, talking to a fair-haired blonde with low-riding jeans and light pink lipstick.

"Jo!" Dean called out, attracting the attention of both of them. Castiel looked around. There were a couple of other people in the place this time, and every so often someone would walk out of a door in the back room and give you a glimpse of a pool table.

"Hey, Dean!" Ash said, looking surprised. "You brought one back a second time! I'm proud of you, man. Finally starting to settle down." He teased.

"Oh, so this is that boy Dean brought in? He _is_ kinda cute." Jo said, smiling. "Hi, I'm Jo." She introduced, holding out a hand for Castiel to shake. He tentatively reached out and took it, surprised by her firm and steady grab.

"Hey Ash, do you think you could make a chocolate milkshake up real quick?" Dean asked, throwing some money down on the counter. "Two straws?"

"I guess. Though you know I'm only doing this for you. I swear that milkshake machine is like a death trap." He said, shaking his head. Dean smirked.

"You're a pal." He called as Ash walked back into the kitchen.

"So, this is really the second time you've brought him in?" Jo asked Dean, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes, it is. Why, do you want his picture now or something?" Dean said sarcastically, sitting down on the bar stool.

"To go or for here?" Was called from the kitchen.

"To go!" Dean responded simply. There were a couple of clangs from the kitchen, noises that spoke of disaster.

"I meant to do that." Ash said. Jo rolled her eyes.

"Seriously though," Jo said, turning to Castiel. "If he's taking you on a second date, he's serious about you. You should hold on to him."

"T-this isn't a date!" Castiel stuttered out, face turning red. Jo raised an eyebrow. "We're working together on a project for science, that's all."

"Well okay then, whatever you say." She said defensively. "Just remember what I said." She added with a wink. Dean groaned.

"Come on Jo, you're scaring the guy." Dean said. She shrugged and walked off to the kitchen, probably to make sure that Ash wasn't going to burn the place down.

A couple of minutes later he stumbled out with a large styrofoam cup, setting it down in front of Dean.

"Thanks Ash." He said, waving a little.

"No problem. Just stop by more often, Ellen misses you." He said. "I'm sick of hearing her complain about it."

Dean grabbed the milkshake and Castiel's hand, (Castiel's blush returning) leading them outside.

Dean's warm hand wrapping around Castiel's, their fingers intertwined, was probably one of the most memorable things Cas had ever felt. Despite the fact that he was self-conscious about his sweaty hands and there were butterflies in his stomach, there was a certain kind of emotional intimacy that he really liked. This was a way of saying that they'll be there for each other. Dean's way of telling him that he was cared for.

Castiel was expecting to be led back out to the car, but he felt a tug in another direction. Dean was pulling him off to the side, towards one of the stores by the roadhouse.

"Where are we going?" Castiel questioned, his brows furrowing. Dean smiled, tugging harder.

"You'll see." He said. He walked Castiel out to the very edge of the circle of stores, stoping in front of an old antique shop that looked like it hadn't been visited for years. There was a layer of dust around the window sill an if it hasn't been for the flashing red sign that declare the place to be open, he would have sworn it was shut down.

"Dean, what are we doing here?" Castiel mumbled, looking warily at the building. Dean laughed and tugged on his hand, urging him to follow. Castiel couldn't say no.

"This place is great for inspiration." He teased, walking in. Castiel was overwhelmed by the smell of mothballs and dust. He scanned the place, finding hundreds of old pots, vases and other assorted trinkets scattered around.

"Customers?" The question came from a small elderly woman sitting behind the counter, a book in her hand.

"We're just looking around for now." Dean clarified, leading Castiel back to the store.

They began to look around, picking up small trinkets here and there and Dean making terrible jokes. Castiel almost laughed at a few of them, but he didn't want to encourage it so he was able to keep himself contained for the most part.

Dean grabbed an old feather boa off the shelf, letting go of Castiel's hand. Castiel was a little disappointed at first, but Dean quickly fixed that. His other hand came to grab the other end of the boa, and led it over Castiel's head and around his waist. Castiel's eyes widened and his hands came up defensively before he was tugged towards Dean, eyes wide as his hands came to rest perfectly on Dean's shoulders, earning a laugh from the other.

"Well you're just a little eager now, aren't you?" Dean teased, putting his forehead against Castiel's. Cas found himself looking up into Dean's bright green eyes, full of enjoyment and happiness, and he smiled, too. He couldn't help it, Dean's happiness was just so contagious.

He felt his lips part a little bit as the look in Dean's eyes darkened, the warmth of their bodies mingling with only inches between them. Castiel felt his eyes half-close, in preparation for what he honestly didn't know.

Dean pulled away then, clearing his throat. Castiel felt a little bit disappointed as the feather boa was pulled off of his waist and placed delicately on the shelf, right next to a big and boxy looking thing.

Castiel looked at it for a moment before he stepped forward, picking it up and eyeing it. It had a camera lens, and a place to seemingly put in different, large film reels.

"Sweet, an old projector!" Dean said, taking it from Cas and looking at it from all angles. Cas looked back towards the place that he had found it, reaching in and finding a couple of dusty film reels lying on the counter. He picked them up, blowing off the dust.

"Our Solar System and Nosporatu?" He questioned. "Isn't that like one of the first horror films ever created?" He questioned. Dean nodded his head, popping open the body and looking at the mechanisms. He flinched, the corner of his mouth pulling into a frown.

"This is gonna take a little bit of fixing. I bet I could get it to work, though." He said thoughtfully, putting the cover back on.

Suddenly, lightning struck Castiel's brain.

"Dean! Dean, could you fix that in time for the science project?" He questioned, excitement flowing through him. Dean turned and cocked his head to the side, seemingly doing some time calculations.

"Well, it's not due for another month and three weeks, so probably." He said, shrugging. Castiel waved the Solar System film reel around, gesturing towards it.

"We could use this to put a solar system up on the ceiling of the class room! I bet he's never seen that before!" Castiel urged. Dean thought for a moment, nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, that's a pretty rad idea, Cas." He said. Castiel grabbed his wallet, checking the price. It was only twenty dollars, he had ten.

"So we'll split the cost 50/50." He offered. Dean nodded, handing Cas the projector and picking his milkshake back up (he had set it down to look at the projector).

They walked to the front of the store together, payed for the projector and were out the door, putting it into the trunk of the impala before climbing into the car. Castiel was smiling the whole time without even realizing it.  
The projector was thrown in the back, and Cas and Dean climbed into the front seat of the impala.

"What now?" Castiel asked. Dean thought for a moment, not wanting to just let this end yet.

"I have an idea." He mumbled, starting up the car. Castiel rolled his eyes and shook his head. He knew that Dean wasn't going to tell him where they were going right now, so he wasn't even going to try and get it out of him. He just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

They rode through the back roads, the windows rolled down just enough to let in the scent of greenery and springtime, and Castiel found himself losing track of time. He found that he liked it, spending this time with Dean. He never thought before that silence could say so much more than words ever could.

This was friendship, in it's purest form.

Eventually, they pulled up in a grassy meadow, right before a drop off. Castiel's eyes widened when he saw the sheer size of the cliff. Dean pulled up close to it, and the sea stretched out, the sun swooping down to gently graze the waters. It was seven thirty by then, only thirty minutes until sunset.  
"Why don't we watch the sunset, and then we take a couple of pictures of our constellation, for the project?" He asked. Castiel nodded his head.

Dean got out of the car, and Castiel's eyes followed him, swimming in confusion. If they were going to watch the sunset, shouldn't they do it in the car? It might get a little cold in the night air that was certain to come soon. They were, after all, in the _northern_ part of California.

"What are you doing?" He yelled out the half-rolled down window. Dean looked back at him as he hopped onto the hood of the impala, leaning back against the windshield and letting out a sigh.

"Living. You should come and join me." He responded, chuckling a bit at his own quick-wit. Castiel opened the door and slowly walked around to the front of the impala, looking warily at Dean. "Well it's not gonna bite, you can sit on my baby's hood." Dean said, patting the seat next to him. Castiel awkwardly scrambled up, eventually managing to arrange himself in Dean's position, back slack against the windshield and feet lightly dangling a couple inches off the edge.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun radiating into his skin. It took him a moment to realize what was different.  
The sun was on his arms. He had left his trench coat back in the impala.  
He made a move to go and get it, but the gentle nudging of a hand at his own made him stop. He looked down to find that Dean was lightly nudging his hand with his own, baiting Castiel to take it.  
Suddenly, the trench coat didn't seem so important anymore.

Castiel gave in. After all, Dean had grabbed his hand earlier, so he should be allowed to do the same, right?

Their fingers intertwined again, and Castiel felt his face heat up again.

Forgetting his trench coat, he scooted a little closer to Dean, closing his eyes and basking in the glow of the sun and the warmth of the body next to him. Dean scooted just a little bit closer, and Castiel found his head inclined to rest perfectly in the crook of Dean's neck. He gave a deep sigh of contentment as they both listened to the waves crash against rock and the seagulls crying out.

The sun painted the landscape a million different shades of orange and pink, making the sky look like a smeary pastel drawing. Slowly, ever so slowly, orange and pink faded into purple and blue, and eventually, the sun had finally sunk into the ocean. They looked up at the sky as the stars shyly slipped out into the cloak of night.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Dean asked, looking up at the stars. Castiel glanced upwards, eyes glued to the huge black slate and admiring the little white imperfections that were their stars.

"I suppose so." He said, though he knew that he was fooling himself. He thought that they were beautiful too.

"You know, some people say that we're made of star dust. Maybe that's why we're so drawn to the sky?" Dean mused, looking around. There were a few clouds in a couple of places, but it was mainly clear out.

"What do you mean, drawn to the sky?" Castiel said, moving his eyes from above to Dean. He saw Dean's brow furrow as he struggled with the words to explain it. Castiel waited patiently for his answer.

"I mean, we've always thought of it as the heavens, perfection, the best place to be. We built planes and hot air balloons and we have dreams about flying, we're fascinated with its beauty. So, maybe that's because some part of us wants to be up there, because that's where home was. Maybe we're all just a little homesick." Dean suggested. Castiel paused, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his wings. He felt them practically flutter in excitement at the mention of flying, and he wished yet again that he would be normal.

"Maybe. I don't think flying would be that great, though." Castiel mumbled. "I mean, what's so fun about being in the air?" He questioned. Dean just shrugged in response.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I kinda want to be there." Dean said, giving a gentle squeeze to Castiel's hand. Castiel shook his head in understanding.

It wasn't long before it was cold, and Castiel was in short sleeves. As much as he wanted to stay like that forever, he knew that he had to get his jacket soon. So, he sighed and sat up, moving his head off of Dean's shoulder.

"I have to go and get my trench coat, I left it in the car." He mumbled.

"You can take my jacket if you want." Dean said. Before Castiel could object, he added, "I'm a little warm with it on anyways."

"Well, if you're really not going to use it..." Castiel said, reaching out slowly to take it from him. He draped the piece of green fabric over his torso, suddenly overwhelmed by how much it smelled like Dean. He inhaled deeply, leather and cinnamon and something else he couldn't identify. He opened his eyes to stare lazily into Dean's for a moment before he leaned forward to rest his head on Dean's shoulder, snuggling into his body warmth despite how warm it already was in Dean's jacket. Their hands were still gripping each other's tightly, eyes tilted upwards.

Soon though, they had to stop. As all good things come to an end, Castiel knew that he needed to get home, and it was still a long drive.

So they both slid off of the impala, walking around to the side doors and opening their own, climbing in. The car hummed to life and the radio started to play 'Livin' On A Prayer', one of Castiel's favorites out of what he had heard so far.

Soon, the night scenery and the soothing ride were too much on Castiel. His eyes drifted shut and he dozed off, breathing steadily as his head bounced against the window whenever they hit a rough patch of road.

"Cas, Cas." Was being whispered in his ear when he came to again, and he slowly opened his eyes to see Dean, who was much too close for comfort.  
Castiel's eyes snapped open and he cleared his throat, smiling awkwardly at Dean, who leaned away.

"You fell asleep. We're at your house now." Dean whispered. Castiel peered out the window to see his house in the night, and he heard the telltale chirping of crickets from their too-tall grass. He nodded his head.

"Thank you for everything, I had a nice time today." Castiel announced, smiling.

"Anytime." Dean said, looking down at his feet before slowly looking up towards Castiel again. His jaw was set and his eyes looked determined, and Castiel knew that something was coming.

Dean leaned forward slowly, his eyes closing as he approached, and his lips gently pressed against Castiel's cheek. Cas felt his face turn red again as Dean pulled away, clearing his throat.

"I had fun too. We should do it again sometime." Dean urged, nodding his head.

"Yeah, definitely." Castiel mumbled, still trying to get over the shock of Dean kissing him. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be singing, and he smiled.

He climbed out of the car, retrieving his backpack from the back and waving to Dean goodbye as he walked up the sidewalk to his house, risking one last glimpse towards the car as he shut the door behind him.

Castiel's father was passed out drunk, so Cas paid him no mind as he walked back to his room, before dropping his book bag and looking in the mirror, staring at himself in disbelief.

His hand raised to slowly and softly touch the place where Dean's lips had been.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
He Dreams Of Flying

**Hey guys! Unfortunately I have lost my ipod, so there might not be an update next week, unless I'm somehow able to miraculously find it in the next few days... Sorry!**

It was a Tuesday over a week later, and Castiel was leaning against his locker, patiently waiting for Dean to show up.

Dean had somehow convinced the person who had the locker next to Castiel's to trade with him, which put Castiel waiting on Dean to walk to class each morning. He wasn't sure why he had started, they had just sort of fallen into step beside each other one day, and Cas felt compelled to wait on him the next. He found that a lot of things with Dean just fell into place like they had always been a part of his life.

He had actually made a regular thing out of riding home with Dean, and now he could be seen four out of five days shot gun in the impala. Sometimes Dean took him straight home, and sometimes they just drove, enjoying the scenery and each other's company.

He scanned the hallways apprehensively, frowning when Dean wasn't anywhere in sight. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost time for class, and he groaned out loud.

"Come on." He muttered, tapping his foot impatiently. He was going to have to go ahead and go to class without Dean if he didn't show up soon.

"Hey, are you Castiel?" Came from behind, and he spun around. Brown, slightly wavy hair and some cute freckles were the first thing that he noticed, and then the intelligent chocolate-brown eyes that gazed apprehensively into his. They were about the same height, and he had a bit of a wiry build.

"Hello? Are you Castiel?" Was repeated, and Cas realized that he had been staring for far too long. He dropped his eyes to the ground and shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm him. Who are you?" He questioned, lifting his eyes again. The boy smiled as he took in Castiel, nodding his head as if he approved.  
"Hi, I'm Sam Winchester. Dean told me to come and tell you that he was gonna be a little late, he had some errands to run." Sam said, and he sounded as if he was quoting the exact words from Dean's mouth. Then he turned a little more casual, his voice less practiced. "Cas, huh? Dean's drove me crazy talking about you. He said that you're really something."

Castiel blushed a bit, dropping eye contact. Dean had mentioned him to Sam, the little brother that he so adored? Well, he was flattered.

"Well your brother has told me a little bit about you too. He said that you're a practical genius, and you enjoy mythology?" Castiel inquired. He saw Sam's eyes light up at the mention, an he decided that he could be late for French class. He wanted to talk to Sam.

"I love mythology. I'm a big fan of Asian actually, but Greek and Roman are the classics and I have to respect that." He said happily. Cas noted that he had the same enthusiasm in his voice that Dean had when they were talking about something that interested him.

"I really like Egyptian, but Asian is fascinating too. How about the Jinn?" He asked. Sam's face slowly turned into a large and dopey smile as they started to discuss topics, and Castiel found himself losing track of the time. Although he was willing to be late, he didn't want to get yelled at by the teachers that often patrolled the hallways right after the bell to try and discourage cutting class.

He knew that he was in trouble when the minute bell rang.

"Crap, I have to go to French class!" He exclaimed, quickly opening his locker and retrieving his French textbook. Sam smiled and waved goodbye as he turned on his heel and started down the hallway.

"It was nice meeting you!" Sam exclaimed, watching Castiel as he walked. His class was just a couple of doors down, so he would be right on time.

"It was nice meeting you too!" Castiel shouted over his shoulder. He turned then, mentally cursing himself for taking so long to grab his book, he started actually running as the bell rang. Hopefully, he could still get there before attendance and nobody would yell at him for being out of class.

He heard footsteps pounding behind him, even quicker than his own, and he turned to see who was running.  
His eyes met Dean's and a huge smile broke across his face. At least he wouldn't be walking into class late on his own.

They stopped in front of the door early, both panting. Dean reached up to lovingly ruffle Castiel's hair.

"I got caught up talking to your brother." Castiel mumbled. "You have some explaining to do, he says you've been telling him about me." He teased.

"Well of course. Why wouldn't I talk about you, angel?" Dean teased right back, satisfied as he saw Castiel's face take on a shade of pink.

"Yeah yeah yeah, let's just get into the classroom before somebody yells at us." He suggested, gesturing towards the door. Dean stepped forward and pulled it open, holding the door with a goofy grin for Castiel, mumbling something that may or may not have been 'ladies first'.

"Castiel, Dean, you're late." The teacher announced, sounding slightly annoyed. Castiel flinched, knowing that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss off the teacher of your easiest class.

"Sorry." Dean said, already walking back to his seat.

"It won't happen again." Castiel assured her, following in Dean's footsteps back the small gap and to their desks, before he slung himself into his and took out his notebook.  
He scribbled down the answers to the daily questions on the board and smiled, leaning back in his seat.

_'So, you talked to Sammy?' _Dean wrote, tossing the paper note onto Castiel's desk. Cas grabbed it and eagerly unfolded it, smiling at the familiar handwriting. He was starting to cherish the little things about Dean, and his handwriting was one of them. Cas was certain that you could give him a hundred different people's handwriting and he could distinguish Dean's from anyone else's.

_'Yes. He seems very intelligent, I like him.'_ Castiel wrote.

'_Well don't get too friendly with him now, he's straight. I think.' _

Castiel rolled his eyes, by now used to Dean's ridiculous teasing accusations.

_'Why, would you be jealous if I did get "too friendly" with him?'_

_'Oh, obviously. You're my baby, Cas.' _He wrote back. Castiel knew that Dean was kidding, but he couldn't stop the small storm of butterflies and the oddly possessive feeling he got in his stomach when he thought of Dean. Dean was his, at the very least on a friendship level. Nobody could take that.

'_Idiot_.' Castiel wrote in his neatest handwriting before he passed it straight back to Dean, who chuckled at the insult.

Castiel thought for a moment, while Dean was responding. Would he be jealous if Dean ended up with somebody else? He tried to imagine himself in that situation, but he honestly couldn't. Maybe he would be jealous? He had to admit that lately he'd been feeling a little possessive over Dean, and not in the friendship sort of way. Like, as in, he didn't want anybody else to get kisses on the cheek or hold Dean's hand sort of way. It was confusing, because at first he'd thought that it was just a fear that somebody else would be Dean's friend, but Gabriel was Dean's friend in the class that they had together and Cas didn't mind that one bit. He didn't care about Dean having friends, he cared about Dean getting a lover.  
Why was a bit of a mystery to him.

Castiel was utterly and entirely in denial. He refused to acknowledge his growing crush on Dean, even to himself.

_'But I'm your idiot.'_

The teacher passed out a worksheet, so unfortunately, they didn't get the chance to talk any more right then.

All too soon the bell rang, and Castiel passed his paper up. Dean stood but he leaned on his desk, waiting for Castiel to pack up so that they could walk to class together.

About a third of the class was still there as Castiel stood up with his backpack slung loosely over his shoulder, and he and Dean started to walk through the desks to head to their next class.

That is, until somebody stepped in front of them.

"Hey, to settle a bet between me and some friends of mine," A short boy with a spiky haircut said, pausing a bit as if finding the right wording for his next statement, "Were you two late because you were making out?" He asked, smirking. Castiel felt his face go bright red. Oh great, as if he didn't have enough embarrassment in his life.

He opened his mouth to say no, but-

"Well of course." Dean said. Castiel whipped around to face him, his mouth slightly open in shock. What was Dean doing?! "I just had to see my angel before class, and I got carried away." Dean sighed, taking a step closer to Castiel and wrapping his hands around his waist.

Castiel wanted to object, to shove Dean off, but he found that trough his shock, bewilderment and embarrassment, it was actually quite hard to move right then.

He felt a small peck to his forehead and he buried his face in Dean's jacket to hide his embarrassment, knowing that no matter what he said at this point it would be taken seriously. So, instead, he clung to Dean's jacket. Besides, what could it hurt, having people think that Dean and him were going out? At least it would stop the girls that seemed to be constantly throwing themselves at Dean.

"Isn't that right, Love Muffin?" Was asked, and he got up the strength to hit Dean's shoulder for the stupid nickname. He slowly peeked out from Dean's jacket to see the stunned look on his fellow student's face.

"Well, uh, okay then. Good for you two." He commented, turning away. He still looked stunned. "Balthazar, you win."

"I just knew it!" Balthazar called, laughing. "Little Castiel finally got a boyfriend. I've been calling that he was gay since the seventh grade, you know." He quipped happily. Castiel rolled his eyes, Balthazar's speech breaking him out of his daze just enough to playfully shove Dean off of him.

"Come on, Honey, we have to go to class." He said sarcastically, grabbing Dean's hand and dragging him out of the door, away from the room of students that was now eagerly whispering about this juicy latest tidbit of gossip.

"Oh, I love it when you take control!" Dean exclaimed, and Castiel stifled a laugh. He shook his head and continued to drag Dean down the hallway, as he seemed intent on making them late to second period, too.

"What are you doing? Quit dragging your feet, let's get to class." Castiel insisted. Dean busted out laughing, grabbing Castiel and pulling him into a big hug.

"Thanks for playing along." He finally got out in between bouts of laughter, but Cas could still hear the ring of sincerity in his voice. Dean was genuinely thanking him for not immediately rebuffing his joke.

"It's fine. Did you see the look on that guy's face, though?" Cas asked, shaking his head. "Seriously though, you do realize that the entire school is going to know about this by lunch, right?"

"Do you really think I care? I mean, you don't care, do you?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

Castiel shook his head immediately, putting his hands up as if to rebuff the very idea that he might care about that.

"Of course not!" He said defensively, to further enforce his honesty. Dean's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to Castiel, their eyes connecting and holding onto each other's gazes.

"Are you sure? Because I could go right now and tell the guy that you broke it off. I bet I could even work up some tears." Dean stated, his mouth remaining a firm line but his voice shaking with the fight to remain serious.

"I'm fairly sure. I wouldn't want rumors to get around that I was a heartbreaker." Castiel said. Dean's flat line of a mouth quirks up just the slightest bit before his self control crumbled, and he was smiling again. He shook his head a bit, as if trying to process everything that was going on.

"Yeah, then you might never get a girlfriend. Come on, let's go." Dean said, grabbing Castiel's arm and wrapping his own arm around it.

"Partner."

The last word was purred in a way that made Castiel blush, but he was beaming with pride on the inside.

At lunch that day, the cafeteria was buzzing and people were constantly sneaking glances back at the two of them.

"Hey, plot twist." Castiel commented, pulling two fruits out of his bag.

"Oranges today instead of apples."

"Well that's ironic." Dean commented, nodding his head approvingly. "I brought chili cheese fries instead of burgers." He commented, reaching into the greasy fast food bag and pulling out a large tray of fries, along with a couple of forks. Unfortunately they were at school, so they couldn't make too big of a mess of themselves.

Dean picked up his fork, stabbing a bite and holding it out for Castiel to take. Castiel leans forward after a moment of hesitation, unsure of Dean's motive. Once the caught on though, he eagerly accepted the tidbit of food offered and grabbed his own fork, stabbing through some fries and offering them to Dean, glancing over to see that yes, their little show was being watched.

"Dean!" Came a voice from behind.

Dean turned, his mouth still full, to face his little brother. Castiel put down his fork and waved hello happily before he picked up his orange, starting to open it to keep his hands busy. He always liked to have something to fiddle around with.

"Hey there Sammy, what's up?" He questioned.

"So, did you two really make it official? You're a couple?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, and Castiel listened with vague interest as to what he was going to tell his brother about their little unplanned trick.

"No, I said it playing around and he just went with it." Dean said, shrugging. "We've been playing it up a little ever since then." Dean further explained, lazily slinging an arm around Castiel's shoulders. Sam's eyes narrowed, and he sat down in front of them.

"You guys don't mind if I stay here and eat with you, then?" He asked. Was it just Castiel, or did Dean seem to hesitate before he shook his head yes?

"Just don't keep Cas tied up the whole time discussing mythology. I still want to be able to talk to him, too." Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I won't get in the way of you two being a happy couple." Sam said sarcastically.

The rest of lunch went by pretty fast, Sam and Dean both entertaining light conversation between themselves and Castiel, keeping him occupied. He was reluctant after it was over to actually get up and go to class.

He did though, stretching and yawning a bit before picking up both his and Dean's trash and carrying it over to the trash cans.

The rest of the day went by pretty darn smoothly after that, just as it usually does. It came to the end, and Dean was waiting for Castiel by his locker, as usual.

"Hey, I'm gonna have to skip on the ride today." Castiel said, really wishing that he didn't have to. He had some homework that he wanted to get started on right away though, so it would be better for him to go ahead and ride the bus home.

"Really? Okay. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Dean said, shrugging. Castiel nodded, not really paying attention to Dean as he put his things in his locker. His cheeks burned red when he felt a light kiss pressed to his forehead, and he had the urge to bury his face in his hands. "Bye."

Dean walked away after that, followed by Castiel's eyes. He honestly had no clue what he felt for Dean. It was all so confusing, and the kiss on the cheek really wouldn't help his concentration on the homework tonight, that he knew.

The bus ride on the way home was terrible. He was used to the impala more now, and it rode a lot smoother than the bus. That coupled with the fact that the students behind him wouldn't shut up for the entire twenty minute drive had him ready to kill someone by the time the bus finally stopped at his doorstep.

As soon as he was inside, he started trying to do his homework, putting his pen to the paper and attempting to force his brain to comprehend the words that were being thrown at him. All in all, with Dean Winchester on his brain, he took two hours on just one measly math assignment, and then another half an hour on English. By the time he was done it was seven o'clock, and he was exhausted. His eyes slid shut periodically.

He finally gave up resisting and crawled into his comfy bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around his shoulders and shutting his eyes tightly. He tried to shut out the world, but heard the door slam as his father came stumbling in from wherever the hell he'd been, probably drunk. He gave a sigh and tossed restlessly, thinking of any way he could grasp sleep and force it to stop evading him. Eventually he settled on letting his mind wander, ignoring the sounds of the television turned up too loud.

As always, his mind traveled back to Dean. It seemed like Dean had somehow worked his way into Castiel's routine so thoroughly that there really was no escaping thinking about him. If they were to somehow drift apart now (no matter how much that would break Castiel's heart) Cas knew that he would still look back on this, look back on Dean and remember it as the best times of his life. He knew that without a doubt.

So, he slowly drifted off, carried into oblivion with his last thoughts being about Dean.

When he woke up in the morning, the first thing that he noticed was that he hadn't yet gathered his supplies from doing his homework last night. He moved slowly off of the couch and tossed his stuff into his bag, running a hand through his messy hair and groaning.

He grabbed clean clothes and changed quickly, knowing that he didn't have time for a shower this morning. He was looking for his pen when he heard a honk come from the driveway, and he rushed to the window in a panic. To his sheer relief, it was not the bus driver.

Instead, there was a slate black impala sitting in his driveway, looking severely out of place in his low-maintenance yard. He quickly grabbed his trench coat the threw it on, running out the door to his bedroom and down the hall, opening the door and looking at Dean as if the answers to his questions could be achieved at a glance. Of course they couldn't, so he had to walk over to the impala.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his brows furrowing. Dean smiled and leaned back in his seat, looking at Castiel like he was just enjoying having him here.

"I'm ditching school, and so are you."

He said, smirking like he just knew that he couldn't be refused. Castiel shook his head, putting his face in his hands.

"How did I get dragged into a friendship with you?" Castiel asked himself out loud, and then he sighed. "I don't know, Dean." He said honestly. "I've never skipped school before in my entire life."

"It doesn't matter if you've done it before, it's an important high school experience that I want you to be able to have." Dean said stubbornly. Castiel growled in frustration, but he knew that he was already defeated. He knew that before he even started the argument. When Dean was determined, he got what he wanted.

"Okay, just let me go and take a shower." Cas mumbled.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting in the impala, nervous as they drove along an open back road. He was probably missing important stuff right now, this ruined his perfect attendance for this year, and other nervous thoughts flitted around in Castiel's brain.

"Where are you taking me?" Castiel asked after a little while. He hadn't seen any of these roads before on previous nights with Dean, so that meant that he was headed someplace they'd never been before. Castiel had considered the possibility that they were just driving, but Dean seemed too concentrated on where they were going and looking for street signs to not have a specific destination in mind.

"We'll just call it a date." Dean said evasively, and his head lazily fell over to flash Castiel his usual dopey grin.

"Eyes on the road." Castiel said flatly, sighing in discontentment. He wasn't going to find out where they were going until they were there, it looked like.

Dean finally looked away from Castiel, reluctantly locking his eyes back onto the street. He could be a dick later. For now, he just had to focus on keeping them on track.

They drove for two whole hours, the windows rolled down a tad bit and the wind messing up Castiel's already untamable hair even more. Dean gave him an appraising look and nodded.  
Dean was actually quite fond of Castiel's messy hair.

"Come on, let's go." Dean encouraged, pulling Castiel along as he scanned the row of buildings that they had parked between, looking for a specific store. Finally, he found it, and he beamed with pride. Castiel didn't even bother reading the sign as he was pulled into the place; they were moving too fast to anyways.

As soon as he was inside, the scent of cleaning material and what sounded like marbles rolling around on an uneven gym floor were the first things that he noticed. He looked around confusedly at the dusty old place, the counter looking like it could probably use a cleaning.

This didn't seem to deter Dean as he walked right up to the thing and put one elbow onto it.

"Two for skating, please." He said, pushing ten dollars onto the counter. The man narrowed his eyes at Dean (it was ten o'clock in the morning, he should be in school right now) but decided that business was business, and he handed him two skating rental tickets.

Dean handed one to Castiel, then grabbed his free hand in his own as they switched to the other counter.

"I'll need a size eight." Dean told the man, releasing Castiel's hand so that he could reach down to slip off his shoes and hand them to the man behind the counter. He took them and went back to retrieve Dean's skates.

"I've never been skating before Dean." Castiel said nervously. He glanced behind him to see a fairly large wooden floor, and two or three couples (along with a couple of loners) already skating around. When they did it it looked easy, but... Well, that floor couldn't be too soft to land on.

"Don't worry, it's lots of fun." Dean assured him. He man came back and handed Dean his skates, looking to Castiel to get his size.

"Seven." He said, handing the man his shoes. He took them and disappeared behind rows of skates before returning a moment later with a pair in hand.  
Castiel tentatively took them, the soft leather of the inside brushing against his thumb as he carried them over to the nearest bench, sitting down and looking at them for a moment as if they were going to bite him.

He sighed and put one of them on the ground, lifting the corresponding foot and shimmying it into the shoe. As soon as it was snug, he tied the laces (with some difficulty-they were almost on the floor, they made them so long!) and repeated the process on his other foot.

He was eventually all tied up, and he looked up to see Dean's hands outstretched in offering. He reached up and took them and Dean pulled him up slowly, helping Castiel stay steady.

His feet wobbled uncertainly underneath him, and he pursed his lips in displeasure.

"Are you sure I'm not going to fall?" He asked, his voice hitching slightly as Dean tugged his arm, pulling him a couple of inches on his unstable feet.

"I'll catch you before you have the chance." Dean compromised, pulling Castiel just a little bit further.  
Castiel was a little more comfortable moving this time, but he was still clinging onto Dean's arm.

"How did you talk me into this?" He mumbled under his breath.

"I didn't, I just didn't tell you where we were going." Dean laughed, slowly pulling Castiel.

Castiel wobbled uncertainly and Dean stopped for a second to help him get his balance. After a second, when Cas was steady, Dean fell back and wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist to keep him from falling.

"Great, now you're treating me like a girl." Castiel grumbled.

"Wait, you mean you're not?" Dean gasped, and Castiel hit him.

"Would it matter if I was?" He challenged. Dean turned serious and he shrugged.

"Not one bit. You'd still be the same you." Dean said. Castiel smiled a bit.

"Now if we're done being feminists for a moment we should move on to the part where you teach me how to not fall on my bottom."

Dean laughed and slowly worked his skates, moving them eventually around the wall and to the rink, where he took Castiel's hand and gently placed it on the rail that went around the thing. It came up to his rib cage, so it was a little short, but it felt stable.  
He grabbed Dean's jacket as he started to move away, turning to glare at him.

"You dragged me into this, you're not leaving me here."

"I was just giving you some space. Let go of me and put your other hand on the pole." Dean instructed. Castiel tentatively moved his hand over to grasp the rail.

"Good, now use it to start pulling yourself along the wall." He instructed, nodding towards the open floor in front of him. Castiel started to move his hands, trying to pull himself. He made it a couple of inches steadily before his skates got too far in front of his hands and slipped out from underneath him, causing his bottom to set a straight collision course with the ground.

He gripped onto the railing for his life, his ribs digging into it as he clutched the metal. Dean was there in a flash, pulling him up and helping to steady him.

"I though you said you'd catch me." Castiel said, partially just teasing.

"Looks to me like that metal bar did the job." Dean teased. "Maybe it should be your date instead."

"Shut up and help me." Castiel argued.

Dean shook his head and wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist to keep him vertical as he used one of his hands to pull himself along the wall, keeping his knees locked to stop himself from falling again.

The rolling of the wheels under his feet was actually a nice sensation, and he found that he was actually enjoying the uncertainty of it all. He liked having to concentrate to balance himself, and he liked that if he did fall, Dean would be there to apologize for not catching him. (Because Dean was only human and got easily distracted, so he probably wouldn't actually be able to catch Castiel fast enough if he did fall.)

"Okay, Now start trying to move your feet." Dean instructed. Castiel took a shaky breath as he slowly moved one of his feet forward, not quite getting how it was supposed to work to propel you forward so far. Sneaking a glance to observe the other skaters, he decided that he was going to try and mimic what they were doing.  
So he bent his knees and pushed one of his feet forward, trying to intimidate what they were doing. He succeeded in moving forward, but it caught Dean off guard and he lost his balance, flailing hands looking for anything to grab to keep him from falling.

Unfortunately, one of Dean's hands latched on to Castiel's, and Cas was sent falling down as if he and Dean were a set of dominos.

He landed on the floor right next to Dean, managing to get Dean's hand off of his and catch himself on his hands and knees. He knew that he would probably have bruises on his knees the next day, and his palms hurt like hell already, but he couldn't help but find the situation at least a little amusing.  
He looked over at Dean's stunned expression and slightly tossled hair, and he let out a deep laugh. Dean glared for a second before he started chuckling a bit, unable to hold it back.

Yeah, it was a little bit funny.

Eventually, they were both openly laughing, not caring that they were getting weird looks from the other skaters around. They could care less; they were happy right then, all they were focused on was each other and the moment.

Castiel gripped Dean's jacket, using a mixture of that and the wall to pull himself up off the floor, standing shakily. Dean followed, not needing anything to push himself up and find his balance. He wrapped his arms lovingly around Castiel's waist and brought him close, sighing in his hair.

"I always have so much fun when we're hanging out." Dean commented. Castiel leaned into his touch, eager to feel Dean's arms wrapped around him. The butterflies made their appearance again.

"I do too." He said softly. Dean pulled away and kept teaching him how to skate, offering pointers and helping him as they went.

All in all, (not including when they stopped for food) it took two hours before Castiel was skating like a pro. He fell a couple more times, but Dean actually did succeed in catching him, so he didn't get hurt.

They got tired around one, (okay, so more like exhausted) and Dean and Cas exchanged their skates for their regular shoes, slipping them on and heading back out the door.

"Where to now?" Dean asked, knowing that it was too early to drive back then.

"I'm not supposed to have to decide, you dragged me out here." Castiel pointed out, not knowing what to do.

"Okay then." Dean said, thinking. He strained his mind, looking for something to do. Suddenly, an old theatre caught his eye. He grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged him into the building, stopping to look at the movie collection.

They didn't have a lot to choose from.

"What movie do you want to see?" Dean asked, gesturing towards the board. Castiel shook his head, trying to comprehend what had just happened. They were outside and Dean dragged him in here... Dear lord, his life moved fast sometimes.  
He finally collected his thoughts and looked up at the board, reading the titles and trying to remember if he had heard anything about any of them. They had some fairly obscure titles...

"I've honestly only heard of Frozen." Castiel commented. Dean shrugged.

"Well if you're into princess crap then we should go or whatever." Dean said.

"It's not about a princess, it's mainly about a queen." Castiel said flatly, "and I've heard it's good, but I want you to enjoy the movie too." Cas said. Dean nodded his head, taking it into consideration.

"Well, I heard that iFrankenstein was good." He said, pointing to the title. Castiel shrugged and nodded. He hadn't heard of it, but he trusted Dean's judgement on stuff like that. He had nice judgement in music, so why not in movies?

"Is it supposed to be this cold in here?" Castiel asked once they got into the theatre. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Of course. It's so people will complain about it, and their dates can do this." Dean elaborated, wrapping his arm around Castiel's shoulder and bringing him just a little closer. Castiel blushed a little, laying his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Yeah, that is pleasant." He agreed.  
The movie wasn't too too long, so in another two hours they were out again. They had stayed snuggled up alone in the giant theatre the entire time, no space between them as they watched the movie. Castiel walked out with a pleasant tingle still going through him. He was practically buzzing in happiness.

"Want to get some iced cream before we go home?" Dean offered, twirling the keys of the impala around in his nimble fingers. Cas watched with rapt attention, smiling just the slightest bit.

"That sounds nice. I have some money on me, I can cover the iced cream." He said. He was determined to do something, because he felt like the girl in this situation and it wasn't something he was comfortable with.

"Alright, which type of iced cream do you want then?" Dean questioned, looking at the different options on a small cart. Castiel was happy that Dean didn't argue the money thing; this needed to be a give-and-take relationship.

"Sea salt? What's that?" Castiel asked, gesturing towards the name. Dean frowned, apparently scanning his memory for the same question. Castiel smiled at his 'thinking' face. "Well don't hurt yourself." He teased.

"Shut up." Dean quipped before his face lit up in recognition. "I know what that is. I don't really know how to describe it, but it's good."

"Okay, then two of those, please." Castiel requested, handing the guy the money from his pocket. He was handed two ice pops and he handed one to Dean, watching him taste it before he tentatively pressed his tongue to the tip.

It was delicious! It was sweet, but had a nice undertone of salt and he could almost imagine that he was actually tasting crystal clear sea water. It was an amazing flavor.

"What do you think?" Dean asked, and Castiel eagerly nodded his head for a moment, before he realized that Dean was waiting for him to elaborate. He pulled the treat away from his lips.

"It's really nice." He said, lifting it to his lips and taking another lick. He reached over and grabbed Dean's hand, walking with him over to a nearby bench. They sat and ate in silence, enjoying each other's company and the tasty iced cream. The cars wizzed by at high speeds, no one sparing a second glance towards them. They may have been in public, but it was their own private moment.

After that though, they knew that they had to get back to Castiel's house. Castiel had to get his dad to write a note for his absence, so they climbed into Dean's truck and cranked up the music loud, taking the back roads as they sped down the gravel together. Dean sang along to some of the songs, coaxing laughs and occasional participation out of Castiel. He didn't really like to sing all that much though, and he didn't know many of the words.

Castiel fell asleep about half way through the drive, resting his head against the window and closing his eyes peacefully.

He was shaken awake by Dean once they were finally at his house.

"We're here." Dean said. Castiel groggily opened his eyes, looking at his house. He gave a feeble groan; his hips hurt and the rest of his muscles too, in a million different places. He felt like he had gone skating with a meat tenderizer.

"Thanks for today." He said, yawning and sitting up. Dean nodded his head. Castiel's hand hesitated on the handle of the door, not wanting to leave, but he pulled it anyways and stepped out of the car.

"Hey, where's my kiss?" Dean teased, smiling. Castiel blushed madly, but he turned around and leaned towards Dean, quick enough that he couldn't talk himself out of it, and he quickly pecked Dean's cheek. As soon as Dean turned to him with eyes full of surprise, he exited the car and shut the door, not wanting to face Dean's reaction.

He walked to the door, stopping right before he walked inside to glance back at Dean's face.

There was a large, dopey smile stretched across it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for being patient on this chapter. I must warn you, I'm the queen of plot twists when it comes to this fic. Also, my favorite sentence in the entire thing is towards the end of this chapter, see if you can spot it ;-) **

**I do NOT own Supernatural, the only thing I own is the plot of this fanfiction. Castiel and Dean are not my characters, and any parts of the plot that may have likeness to people or events in the real life is entirely coincidental. Except for Cas and Dean, they're supposed to be... Well, them. **

**UPDATE: The first time I uploaded this it came out as a bunch of weird symbols and crap, hopefully this works this time! I'm so sorry!**

Chapter 5  
He Dreams Of Flying

It was the Friday night after that. Castiel had been too busy with homework to ride home with Dean, so they hadn't gotten to spend much time together. Castiel sighed as he doodled on his notebook, having finished his homework and looking for something to do.

The sun had sat just over the horizon and the sky was still pink, and he looked back to the small cartoon dragon he was drawing. It was missing a little something, he just couldn't put his finger on it...

He added in some texture for the scales, and he smiled down at it. There, that was better.  
After a moment, he turned the page and started doodling little hearts, just out of boredom. It was stupid and girly, but hey, he had nothing better to do. He wrote his name a few times, _'Castiel Novak' _in big, fancy letters before he realized that something felt off about that, too.

Was he really still 'Novak'? That didn't feel like his last name. His dad was never there for him, always drunk or on some kind of new fix, and he wasn't going to be a part of that legacy. Sure, his grandma was his family, but she wasn't really what gave him his last name. But if he wasn't a Novak, then what was he?

He thought back to his friends. Who had been the most like family to him? Who was he closest to? Who did he want to be associated with, a part of his family?

So, he slowly wrote '_Castiel Winchester'_ on the page, tilting his head just a bit. It had a nice ring to it, that was for sure.

BAM!

Castiel flinched, looking around worriedly for the source of the noise. It came again, just a little softer this time, from the right side of his room. He rose from his chair, weary of the noise, and he slowly stepped over. He flinched at the sounds of his own footsteps, and jumped as he heard the sound again.

He lifted up some blankets and his eyes scanned the room in an almost panic.

BAM!

This time, the sound echoed a little bit, as if something had bounced off of something else. He narrowed his eyes and he approached his window, throwing open the curtain and peering down into the half-light of twilight.

Dean was standing about ten feet away from his house, a dopey smile on his face. Sat down in the grass beside him was the projector and his toolbox, along with what looked like candy and snack food. Castiel reached down to open up his window before Dean threw another rock and woke his dad up. He was currently passed out on the couch in the living room, and Cas would very much prefer to keep it that way.

"What are you doing?" He hissed as soon as his window was open. Dean picked up his things and walked over, leaning against the railing.

"Well, I came to see you. I missed your company when you didn't ride home with me today." Dean teased. Castiel put his face in his hands, shaking his head vigorously.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" He asked, moving aside. Dean slung his leg over the window rail and then the rest of him followed, almost falling over on top of his stuff.

"What's all this?" Castiel asked, gesturing towards everything. Dean shrugged, walking over and setting it down in the middle of the floor.

"It's the stuff to fix the projector. I figured we could get it fixed and watch the thing on stars, find a good place to pause it for when we have it going in class. What do you say?"

"Well, it's not like I had anything else I was going to do." Castiel quipped, sitting down on the floor by the projector. Dean smiled and sat down next to him, picking up a screwdriver and opening the top of the case. When he did finally get it open, a puff of dust came out of the hole, and Dean coughed.

"Well, this thing hasn't been used in awhile." Dean commented, blowing softly down onto it. Even more dust arose, and he looked down into the blackness, shining a flashlight.

After about five minutes of looking around in it, his face lit up.

"Well, I can already see the first problem." He said. "Cas, hand me the socket wrench." Dean said. Castiel opened the tool box, peering down at all the different kinds of tools. He tilted his head in confusion.

"I have no clue which one is the socket wrench." He admitted sheepishly, looking around. Dean reached over and grabbed it, holding it up for a moment to let Castiel see it.

He nodded his head, memorizing what it looked like for future reference.

Dean stuck it into the projector, positioning it under something for a moment before he passed it back.

"That's too large. Let's try a flat head screwdriver." He said, gesturing towards the tools. Castiel moved some of them around until he found the screwdrivers, and he studied them carefully. He picket up one that had a thin piece of metal as its head, figuring that it was probably what Dean was referring to. If memory served him correct from before his grandpa died, (he had let Castiel work with him a few times when he was younger) then he had the right tool.

"Here." He mumbled, handing it over toDean. Dean nodded his head and grabbed it, placing it in the same position that the wrench was in earlier. He paused though, his eyes flickering up to meet Castiel's.

"So, do you want to help?" He asked, gesturing towards the thing. Castiel shook his head yes tentatively, afraid that he'd mess things up but not wanting to leave Dean to do the job alone.

"Okay, come over here and put your hand on the screwdriver, we're trying to pull up that gear." He said, gesturing towards it. Castiel crawled over to him, placing his hand on the screwdriver. Dean wrapped a hand around Castiel's to help keep him steady, and together they pulled the gear up. It popped up with a satisfying sound, and Castiel sat up a little straighter in pride. He hadn't done much, but hey, he helped.

"See that?" Dean asked, gesturing to a pile of goo. Castiel nodded his head yes, intrigued by it. That didn't look like it belonged in a projector.

"Somebody spilled something on this, the gear is broken. Can you go and get me a wash rag with warm water and a dry one?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded.

"Just remember that I'm not your slave. If you knew your way around my house, I'd make you do it yourself." He threatened. Dean smirked as he got up, watching him walk out the door.

Dean really, really liked Castiel. A lot. He loved it when Castiel smiled and when he laughed, and Cas was the first person that Dean had ever really felt serious about. The only problem was, Dean wasn't quite sure that Castiel felt the same way.

Dean stood up, his legs starting to fall asleep from where he had remained crouched. He looked over at Castiel's chair, deciding that it would be the best place to sit down and relax while Cas was getting the stuff. He plopped himself down in the chair, leaning forward as he did. His eyes scanned the room out of boredom.

Soon, they rested on the notebook in front of him. He recognized that, it was the one that Castiel was constantly drawing in! He grabbed it and opened up the cover, smiling at the small Egyptian doodles all over the page. He knew that he probably shouldn't be looking at it, but he couldn't resist the temptation. Hey, Dean wasn't perfect, and one of his flaws was that he would do anything to stop his insatiable curiosity sometimes.

He flipped trough the pages, skipping about ten so he could get to the more recent drawings. He admired a dragon on one page, enjoying the scale texture the most. Castiel was good with detail. Dean couldn't draw at all, so looking at Castiel's stuff was really fun to him.

He flipped the page yet again.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the page in shock.

Scrawled all over it in neat handwriting was Castiel's full name. The penmanship was swooping and beautiful, leaving waves and swirls all over. It sort of reminded Dean of what a scribe wrote in the Middle Ages.

That wasn't the part that shocked him, though. No, that would be the fact that at the very bottom of the page, larger than all the others, the name tagged on at the end of Castiel wasn't Novak. It was Winchester.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and before e even had time to process what he had just read, he slammed the book shut, pushing it back across the table to where it sat before. He put his head on his hand and acted like nothing had happened, trying his best to look bored.

Castiel came into the room with the rags in hand, his head tilting in confusion when Dean wasn't crouched by the projector. He scanned the room and found him sitting in his chair, and he looked sort of jumpy. Castiel walked over and tilted his head just a bit, wondering what he had gotten worked up over.

"Is everything okay?" He questioned, frowning a bit. Dean nodded his head for a moment, glancing up to meet Castiel's eyes before he looked away quickly, blushing just the slightest bit.

"Actually, probably better than okay." He said, smiling just a bit. Castiel paused, confused, but he decided that he probably just didn't want to know why Dean was acting so strange all of a sudden. It might be something that was going to bother him.

"Okay then. Here's the rags." He said, lifting them up and giving them a small shake. Dean seemed to snap out of his thoughts, standing up and walking over to get the rags before crouching down by the projector again, and beginning the long process of removing the sticky goo from all over the inside workings.

It took what seemed like forever. He would clean a spot only to find another one that was stuck or find out that one had busted, (hot glue that Castiel had fixed that problem) and it felt to him like he was constantly making no progress whatsoever. Finally though, after a good two hours of working, he was done.

He dusted off his hands and put the cover back on, giving a deep sigh.

"Well even if it doesn't work yet, I need to take a break." He laughed, smiling. He reached over to some of the candy that he had brought, opening the bag of licorice and getting a piece out, sticking it into his mouth before he reached in again and handed a second piece to Castiel.

Castiel took it, taking a small bite. He'd never had licorice before, so he wasn't sure what to expect out of it. He actually found that he quite liked it though, so he took another bite.

Dean stood up and stretched, and his eyes met Castiel's. he walked over close to him before slowly putting a hand around his waist.

"Hey, have you figured out much more about your sexuality?" Dean asked slowly, and he looked a little reserved. "Like, do you know what you like?"

"I still have no clue." Castiel said, giving a sigh. "It doesn't really matter anyways, I'm not going to be with anyone." He said. Dean looked appalled by the idea.

"What? Of course you will, don't talk like that. You're an amazing, funny, handsome guy. You could get whoever you wanted." Dean said, hoping that Castiel would catch on. Castiel, of course, didn't.

"Well thank you. Why don't we see how that projector works now?" He offered, gesturing towards it. Dean nodded his head and grabbed Castiel's chair, propping it up against the wall and placing the projector on it tenderly.

"Hand me that film reel." Dean said gently, reaching out. Their hands brushed as Castiel did as he was told, eager to see if the thing was going to work or not.

"Okay now, let's light this puppy up." Dean mumbled, inserting the disk. He angled it so that it was facing the large, empty wall across from the bed, so that they could lay on the mattress and watch it together if it worked. He took a shaky and hopeful breath and pushed the button, breathing out a sigh of relief as the lights flickered.

It took a few minutes to warm up, but soon a large picture was on Castiel's wall, a scientist pointing to a star diagram. He was smiling broadly and Dean found his dorky glasses to be both ridiculous and stereotypical. He beamed with pride, turning to Castiel. "Am I good, or am I good?" He asked.

"I think you did satisfactory." Castiel allowed. "That is, if it keeps working."

Dean let his shoulders sag, annoyed. "It'll work." He retaliated. Castiel rolled his eyes, the same eyes that were quickly attracted back towards the screen as the scratchy audio came through.

"Let's sit down and watch this." Dean said, sitting onto Castiel's bed. Castiel nodded his head and mimicked Dean's actions, sliding casually onto the mattress and fidgeting a bit.

The video was fairly educational. It seemed like they probably knew more about stars than they did back then, but Castiel couldn't complain about lack of information. There were plenty of interesting facts that could be used for a report.

Soon, the room was lit up with stars as a picture of the sky came across the screen. Dean reached over and paused the video, smiling to himself at the scene. It was just like that night on the hood of the impala, and he could appreciate that. It was where he realized just how serious about Castiel he really was.

"Okay, so, this is perfect for the project." He said, nodding. "We'll leave it paused here, and we'll just start it up for class when we give our project." Dean said, nodding his head in agreement with his own idea. Castiel was looking up at the stars in fascination, and Dean stopped talking once he realized that he wasn't really being listened to.

Castiel felt a hand softly on his own, gently set down on top. He slowly turned to look at Dean, a small smile tugging at his lips. He tilted his head in question, just a bit.

Dean leaned forward and hugged Castiel. It took all of his will power not to kiss him, but the moment didn't quite feel right. It was coming, though. He could feel it deep in his bones that the time was coming, and coming fast. Dean felt a nervous anticipation swirl in his stomach; the first time he'd ever been nervous about kissing someone.

"You're crushing me." Castiel teased. Dean took it as a challenge.

"Oh yeah?" He said. He swung his feet up onto the bed and pushed Castiel down, causing the young boy's eyes to widen in surprise. He chuckled deep in his throat. Castiel was pinned under him for a couple more seconds before Dean simply fell to the side, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist and pulling him close, their chests pressing together.

Castiel absorbs the affection and heat like a sponge, snuggling closer to Dean. The bedroom feels like its not even there. It feels like it's just the two of them in their own little world, where anything that happens can be hidden. Castiel feels his pupils dilate and he finds himself staring at Dean's lips. Off in his own fantasy, he doesn't even think to blush. He just knows that despite the confusion he's had on the subject lately, in this moment, he wants those lips pressed against his own.

Dean senses it, too. He's been waiting for this moment, and Cas looking at his mouth like its a piece of candy is enough of a sign for him. Castiel's eyes finally drift away from his lips and up to his eyes, and both of them feel like, for a second, they're thinking with the same mind.

Castiel's breath catches in his throat when he feels Dean shifts a little closer, their lips mere inches apart. He wants to keep staring into Dean's eyes and preserve the intense connection that they were sharing, but he can't help his eyes fluttering shut on an instinct. He half expects to be wrong, for Dean to turn away and act like nothing ever happened. He half expects to feel the sting of rejection that seems to come from almost everyone else.

Instead, he feels a soft pair of lips gently nudge his own, slightly parted. He can taste Dean's breath as it ghosts , not a real kiss yet but certainly on its way there. Dean's arms tighten around Castiel's waist and Castiel can't help but to lean forward a little, firming the connection between their lips.

He felt like he could melt into Dean, like they could just fuse and become one and never part again, Dean's lips slide against his own ever so teasingly before pressing down for kiss after kiss. This pattern repeats a good four times before he breaks away, both of them panting.

Dean and Castiel look into each other's eyes for a moment, and Castiel's one thought is, 'I'm glad that my first kiss was with him. Even if things don't work out, I'll always remember this.'

The silence stretches on for awhile, not necessarily uncomfortable, but enough to make breaking the silence a must.

"I'll go turn off the projector." Dean mumbled, leaning over to do so. Once he's done, he knows that he should probably go. Castiel might have a lot to think about with everything that had just happened. He didn't want to go, though.

So, he set his body back down in the same position and hugged Castiel tightly, nuzzling his hair affectionately.

"I could just stay over here if you'd like." Dean offered, still nuzzling Castiel ever so slightly. Castiel nodded his head eagerly, smiling. Dean gave a yawn, shifting a little bit, and he closed his eyes. Castiel closed his eyes too, his last thought being about how nice Dean smelled.

In the morning, he slowly opened his eyes, wondering vaguely why he was up against something firm and warm. His eyes fully opened and he looked up at Dean, his memories from what happened last night came crashing down on him.

He honestly wasn't sure how to feel. He hadn't gotten that close to someone before in his entire life, and that was certainly a hindrance in how he would approach this. Were they supposed to talk about it now, or...? Furthermore, did him liking the kiss mean that he liked Dean?

He had rules for himself. He wasn't supposed to get this close to anyone. He was supposed to stay away from this at least as long as possible, and he'd broken every rule in the book when Dean had come along. The worst part? He couldn't even bring himself to care.

He knew that he was getting much, much too close to mr. Dean Winchester.

His thoughts derailed as soon as a pair of bright green eyes groggily opened in front of him, eyeing him up and down, spending a larger amount of time looking at his bed hair than probably necessary. Castiel smiled a bit, unable to help himself.

He should be afraid right now. He should feel scared and helpless and so afraid because Dean could hurt him now, Dean could reject him...

But all he could feel looking into those bright green eyes was happy.

"Good morning, beautiful." Dean teased, leaning down to place a peck on Castiel's forehead. Castiel leaned into it, mumbling a little before yawning an restarting his sentence.

"You want to have some breakfast and then go? You should probably get back to Sam." Castiel said, stretching. He didn't want to leave Dean's arms, but he swung his feet out of the bed and stood up anyways, knowing that the course of action was inevitable.

He walked over to the projector and patted it fondly before turning back to Dean and stretching his hands up over his head, his wings twitching through his shirt. He quickly ended the stretch before Dean could notice, but he was still nervous as hell right then.

"Uh, let's go." He said, not waiting for Dean's answer. He walked briskly out of his door.

He strode into his kitchen, hearing clumsy and tired footsteps that most certainly belonged to Dean behind him. He stopped being nervous, relaxing now that it was over. He was all done with the worry, and he had his wings under control now.

He rounded the corner and his mouth dropped open in shock.

"D-dad?" He stuttered.

His father was standing dressed full in regular clothes, pouring a cup of coffee. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he actually looked pretty sober. He had a toasted bagel in one hand and he slowly set the coffee cup down before turning back to Castiel.

"Castiel, hey." He greeted. Castiel heard footsteps come into the kitchen and his father's eyes shifted, seemingly getting an eyefull of Dean. Surprise was etched faintly on his features. "Who's this?"

"This is Dean." He said immediately, probably talking too fast. "He and I are working on a project together and he fell asleep last night." He explained, before his dad could jump to conclusions.

"Really? Well, okay. You two have fun working on that project, I have to head out. I got a really good job concerning some electric stuff at the motel down the street. Just... If you're going to have friends come over from now on let me know, okay?" He asked. He looked at Dean again, and it looked like he approved. Castiel was stunned speechless.

"Okay then." He said. His dad nodded.

"By the way, there are a couple of cinnamon roles in the cabinet. Your grandma stopped by earlier." He explained, gesturing towards the wooden cabinet. "You might have to put them in the microwave for awhile."

"Okay then, dad." He agreed, nodding his head in understanding. His dad put the coffee pot down and grabbed his cup, straightening up and heading out the door. Castiel watched, wordless, as he left. Well, at least he wasn't passed out drunk and half naked on the couch. That would have probably been a little more embarrassing.

He snapped out of it when Dean tapped his shoulder lightly, concern flickering across his features.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. That was just a little unusual." He said, laughing a bit. Dean slowly nodded, not pushing for more information despite still being a little curious. "I'm gonna get the cinnamon rolls."

Castiel walked over to the cabinet and open fled it up, locating the rolls and busying himself by putting them in the microwave for half a minute and looking for the plates while they cooked. The sweet and buttery smell filled the air as the timer went off and he grabbed them out of the microwave, setting one on each plate and handing one of the plates to Dean.

Dean took a bite first, nodding his head a bit as he chewed.

"These are like heaven." He said, nodding his head in approval. Castiel smiled a bit, taking a bite out of his own and finding the statement to be true. They were pretty darn tasty. Then again, so was everything that his grandmother cooked.

They ate in silence after that, and Castiel decided that they worked better in silence. He wasn't a huge fan of talk in the first place, so it was better that they had things to think about.

Dean was done and he placed his plate carefully into the sink, stopping by and giving Castiel a kiss on the forehead. He started to walk towards the door, and Castiel felt disappointment flow through him.

"You really have to go now?" He asked quietly. Dean sighed and paused his steps, turning back to look to Castiel with sadness in his eyes.

"My brother didn't know I was staying last night, he's probably worried sick." Dean said, sighing. Castiel nodded, trying to understand. He didn't have a brother though, so it was sort of hard. He thought he could picture it, though. Having somebody to care for you your entire life must be nice.

"Okay then. I'll see you at school on Monday." Castiel said, waving at Dean. Dean nodded and walked out the door, towards his car and his little brother.

It was then that Castiel thought about what an idiot he was.

Why did he have to let Dean kiss him? Dean didn't kiss him again before leaving, so that meant he didn't want to, right? Castiel shook his head, trying to quel the disappointment that was prominently eating at his soul. He put down his plate and gave a long sigh, shaking his head. How could he ever think that Dean wanted that too? It was just a one time thing.

But Dean had been so eager and tasted so good against his lips...

Why didn't he just mention it before he left?! Castiel was so confused, he had so many thoughts and emotions running through his head that he could hardly comprehend any of it, and he decide that he needed to lay down.

So lay down he did.

They didn't talk about the kiss for almost a week afterwards. Things were awkward, conversation lagged, and both of them were wondering why the other didn't bring it up.

Castiel felt like he was going to explode from pressure if Dean didn't say something soon. He didn't even care what at this point. He just wanted Dean to admit that it was a mistake so they could both move on with their lives, but he certainly didn't want to be the one to bring it up. He could feel the tension slowly mounting though, like the elephant in the room was slowly getting louder and louder and bigger and bigger, and he knew that if something wasn't said soon that both of them were going to get too overwhelmed to continue this all. He hated the thought, but he just couldn't bring himself to bring it up.

So, they started to avoid each other. Just little things like not walking to class together or not passing notes, until suddenly, on day five, they weren't even talking anymore. It was probably the worst day of Castiel's life, and he'd felt like crying the entire time. He was caught in between running and crying and losing his mind, and he wasn't sure which would come first. The bus ride home felt especially bumpy and boisterous.

That Friday, though, things changed.

The bell had just torn through the air as it always did, offering the typical relief of the end of the day. Castiel three his stuff in his locker, mumbling to himself. He felt Dean's presence beside him, but he ignored it, picking up his books. There was a light patter of footsteps as somebody approached them, and a small disturbance in the air. Castiel turned to find Anna standing and looking at them wearily.

"So, umm... Did you guys break up or something?" She asked. Castiel wasn't sure what to say, and Dean remained silent at his side. He knew that Dean was waiting for him to answer, but he honestly didn't know how. So he just stood there with his mouth sealed as things became more and more awkward by the second. "Because it just seems like there's something between you now, it's kinda awkward." She said, clearly trying to elaborate to get one of them to respond. Both of them remained silent, and the tension in the air was practically visible.

Finally, Dean decided to take it upon himself to answer. "No." He mumbled.

"Okay, good. I hope you two work through whatever it is, you were kinda cute together." She commented before turning on her heel and walking away, back to her group of friends.

Castiel slowly turned to Dean, a question burning in his eyes. Dean was already back at his locker though, putting in books mechanically and stooping down to organize some things. Castiel gave a sigh and decided that knowing why he said yes wasn't really worth asking, and he swung his backpack into his locker and shut it, having completed his homework in class. He nervously fidgeted with his tie as he started to walk towards his bus, not really wanting to go there.

Suddenly, a warm hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. Dean's intense eyes were staring into Castiel's own, and Castiel suddenly felt like the room between them was either not enough or all too much.

"We need to talk. Meet me out front, I'm driving you home." Dean said firmly. Castiel nodded his consent, too overwhelmed to think clearly about what he should do concerning the subject. Dean slowly move the hand off of his shoulder, turning and walking away and out the door, fiddling with his keys on the way out. Castiel felt himself slowly let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding before, and he waited until Dean was completely out of sight before walking after him.

Castiel sat on the steps to the school, the warm sun shining down on his face as he did. He slowly shrugged off his trench coat, feeling his ocean blue wings starting to heat up as they were confined under layers of clothing. He was still in a thick sweater, but it was much better than compared to what it was before.

Dean pulled up in the impala, and he looked out at Castiel expectantly as he revved the engine. Castiel took a shaky breath to calm his nerves before he stood, walking over to the car and slowly climbing in, throwing his trench coat in the back. He could smell the interior and the scent of Dean mingling, and he could honestly say that it was probably the most relieving scent in the world to someone who was afraid that they had lost someone. He shook his head to clear it as Dean reached out and started up some music, classic rock starting to flow through the speakers just like it was the nineteen hundreds.

Castiel had never felt more at home.

There were no words at first. Dean drove and Castiel kept his mouth shut, trusting that Dean would explain himself when he needed to and taking comfort in the familiarity of the scene. He thought that they were going to the roadhouse for awhile, but Dean sped on by that place like he did every other. Castiel still didn't comment, not willing to lose the silent connection that he felt he had with Dean in this moment. Things just wouldn't feel right with actual words.

They drove and drove, the scene slowly becoming familiar to Castiel again as they approached the levy. They were soon at the cliff where they had gone the first time he accepted a ride from Dean, and he knew that his eyes were lit up as he saw the sun begin to slowly set on the horizon. Dean was silent only for a few moments, both of them watching the sun's colors slowly caressing the waves as sea foam sprayed from the constant turmoil of the water.

"Why haven't we talked about it?" Dean finally asked, turning towards Castiel. "I mean, I understand if you didn't like it, but I don't want to have to lose my friend over something as stupid as a bad kiss."  
Dean said, swallowing thickly. Castiel had to take a moment to gather his thoughts, tilting his head to the side.

"You... You think that I didn't like it?" He finally questioned, unsure of what to think. Dean turned back towards him, and he was confused too.

"Well yeah. Why else do you think I hadn't done it again?" He asked, looking at Castiel as if he was dumb. Suddenly, Castiel did feel just a little bit stupid.

"Well, I thought that you didn't like it." Castiel mumbled, feeling a little sheepish. Dean's eyebrows raised, and his voice dropped a bit.

"So you're telling me that we haven't kissed again because both of us was afraid that the other didn't like it?" He asked. Castiel thought it over for a moment before he slowly nodded, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

"I suppose so." He said. Dean looked stunned.

"So we didn't talk for a week because we're literally both idiots?" He asked. Castiel made a face.

"I'm very smart, you're just hard to read." He defended, not entirely getting that Dean was joking to a certain degree. That was Castiel for you.

"Well, that's just peachy." Dean said, taking it as a yes. He laughed for a moment, looking down. Castiel felt relieved that all of this was finally out in the open. Now, at least things could get back to normal. "So wait... You, you liked it?" Dean asked, his voice turning serious again.

"I... It was a very memorable experience. I wouldn't say that I didn't enjoy it." He said, shifting uncomfortably. He knew where this conversation was going, and he wasn't sure that he knew what he was going to do about it. Everything just seemed so surreal.

"So, does... Does that mean you wanna, I don't know, do it again?" Dean suggested, shrugging a bit to himself and looking away. Castiel paused, trying to sort through the sudden onslaught of emotions.

He had spent his entire life pushing and pushing people away, never letting anybody get too close for fear of what they might find out. But how could somebody find something out without you telling them? He was sick of pushing people away, sick of not having anybody close because of his stupid and irrational fear. So, for once, he wasn't going to push somebody away. He was going to pull him closer, and just let himself be himself for once.

"Oh god yes." He hissed. Dean smiled a bit and Castiel leaned forward to press their lips together heatedly, feeling like their souls themselves were merging. Dean blushed at how sudden it was, but he leaned into the kiss anyways, his lips working slowly on Castiel's in a way that felt absolutely wonderful. The heat sparking between them seemed to fill the car quicker than expected, and Dean soon found himself leaning over the console, body pressing Castiel's to the window as light and gentle touches were exchanged, fingers were threaded in hair and lips continued to work.

Things slowed down after that, kisses becoming slower and more meaningful, touches firmer as they found themselves wanting to take things slowly. Castiel's shirt came up a couple of inches, but he was too blissed out on Dean's lips to really care or even notice.

Dean broke away and both of them were panting, his eyes burned intensely into Castiel's.

"You're the most serious I've been about anyone. This does mean we're going out now, right?" He clarified, panting a little. Castiel's eyes were still trained on his kiss-swollen lips, and he licked his in anticipation of returning to their activities. His eyes soon drifted upwards though, taking in Dean's flushed appearance and his tousled up hair, before finally coming to his eyes, which were shining with love and affection.

Castiel decided that it was probably the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"Of course." He confirmed, nodding his head. Dean lazily smiled before he leaned down again, pressing their lips together again in the haze of emotion and heat. Castiel eagerly leaned up into it, barely even noticing that the window roller thing was pushing into his spine.

One of Dean's hands traced the bare skin of his stomach and he shivered a little, humming his appreciation against his partner's lips.

Then, suddenly, he felt the brush of feathers against his skin.

Dean pulled back, his eyes looking down curiously as he stroked over the soft feather's of Castiel's wings. Castiel stopped breathing, dread rising in his stomach and fear coursing through him. He shut his eyes tightly for a second and opened them again just in time to see realization dawn on Dean's face.

"Cas, those are feathers." He said slowly, his mind calculating and his eyes scanning Castiel's face for an explanation. "Do you... Do... Are those... Yours?" He whispered.

Castiel felt shame and humiliation wash through him. He closed his eyes tightly. Dean knew, and now he was going to leave him, just like his mother did. His lungs felt too tight and heavy and his chest felt like it was going to explode. He couldn't bring himself to answer, the small space of the car suddenly seeming like too much for him. He needed out, and he needed out now.

He brought his hands up and shoved Dean off of him, his eyes filling with tears. He barely heard a muffled, "Cas, wait!" Before he was out the door, the cold air hitting his skin like a slap in the face. He started working his legs, moving, needing to be anywhere but here.

The wind howled in his ears as he ran as fast as he could, not listening to the calling out of his name behind him as it was shouted. He just ran and ran, his muscles burning and eyes watering, dodging through the trees in the mostly darkness. He ran until he couldn't run anymore, until his legs and lungs were burning and he collapsed against a tree, leaning back against it and clinging for support like it was the one thing keeping him weighted down to earth.

He didn't know how long he had been there, sobs racking his body, hands covering his face as he cried into them. It felt like hours. Eventually, his tears subsided and all that he was left with was a mind numbingly terrible grief.

That was his chance at love, his one chance to get a taste of normalcy, and he blew it.  
He didn't even hear the crunching of leaves along the forest floor as Dean approached him, slowly and then knelt down beside him.

"Castiel baby, talk to me." He said quietly. Castiel heard the shifting of leaves and Dean sighed again, putting his fingers up to his nose and pinching it a moment. He thought for a second before he knew what to do, the one thing that wouldn't need words.

Castiel's curiosity was intrigued when Dean's shirt hit the forest floor beside him, but he didn't look up. "Cas, look." Dean commanded. "Please, just do it." He whispered brokenly.

Castiel couldn't say no. He was too tired, too drained, just wanted to get this over with and get home. His eyes drifted upwards and out of his hands, and his mouth dropped open in shock.  
On Dean's shoulders rested a mighty pair of wings, probably a foot longer than his own. His feather's looked soft to the touch and glistened in the low light, glossy and shiny and perfect. Then, there was the color, oh, the color.

If Castiel's wings were the ocean, then Dean's wings were the midnight sky reaching out to touch it.  
Castiel took a moment to process all of this, before suddenly, he was standing. He wasn't sure how it happened after that, but somehow, he was crying into Dean's bare shoulder, happiness coming through him in waves.

Dean was just like him, Dean understood.

He would never have to be alone again.


	6. Chapter 6

**I apologize, this chapter went ahead and screwed up with the update, too. I've had so much trouble with this story not doing what it's told... UGH, it has to be just as frustrating for all of you, I apologize. Here is the update:**

Chapter 6  
He Dreams Of Flying

**Prepare to adore me.**

**I still get peoplke asking every week, "When is the next chapter coming out?" The answer is always either Friday or Saturday, it updates every week. And the fanfiction is going to be eight chapters long, so you still have two more to look forward to, you don't have to worry. **

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Castiel and Dean walked back to the impala when the sun had already long been set beyond the mountains. Castiel's throat was a little sore and his eyes were still watery from crying, but he felt a sort of overwhelming happiness that couldn't be stifled. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Dean was still shirtless, carrying it in his hands, letting his wings out. He lightly flapped them in the breeze, enjoying the stretch of muscles that had gone too long without being used.

They approached the impala and he climbed on top, not willing to let this moment go yet. Despite being tired, Castiel felt the same way, so he followed Dean onto the hood of the car. Dean's wings spread out to wrap around both of them, pulling Castiel closer to Dean. He had probably never felt so safe and secure and certain that he was loved in his life.

They sat with Castiel leaning against Dean's chest for a little while, just looking up at the stars. Finally, Castiel felt that the moment was right to speak.

"Do you think that there are more of us out there?" Castiel whispered, almost afraid to ask the question. Dean seemed to mull it over a minute.

"Probably one or two. Sammy doesn't have them, so it's not genetic." He said, shrugging. Castiel nodded his head a little, giving a sigh. He hadn't even thought to ask about Sammy yet.

"So, if it's not genetic, why do you think we have them?" He questioned, reaching out to slowly stroke one of Dean's glossy feathers. Dean shivered a little, enjoying the feeling. Nobody had ever done that before.

"I honestly don't know. Do you have any theories?" He questioned, shaking his head to clear it. Castiel froze at the question, and Dean knew that he had hit a sensitive spot.

"I have no clue." He whispered.

"Maybe it was so when we finally found each other, we'd know we were meant to be?" Dean teasingly suggested. Castiel smiled just a bit, seeming to take the suggestion as more of a joke than anything.

"Maybe." He agreed quietly. "I highly doubt it."

"Well then, you obviously have to think something. Is there something you're not telling me?" Dean asked, pushing for information. He didn't want to make Castiel uncomfortable, but at the same time, he wanted to know what was up with him. Maybe he could help him to feel better about it?

"I- well..." Castiel stated. He was so used to putting up walls and not telling people how he really felt or what he was really feeling that he was finding it difficult to let Dean in. He knew he had no reason to be concerned though. He could tell Dean, he could finally let it all out. It was just going to be difficult to start. "The real reason my mom left. I usually tell people that she just got sick of us one day and went, which is what I was told when I was little, but that's not exactly the case." He mumbled. Dean nodded his head, urging him to continue. He found that as he spoke, it was getting easier and easier to let the words come out.

"I found her diary when I was twelve. I had always wondered what had happened to make her go, what specifically pushed her off the edge. All the response I got from my dad was that she was under too much stress and wanted to leave. If I ever asked what she was like, he'd always respond with some generic, half thought out answer. So, I took matters into my own hands once I found it. I tried to wait, but I couldn't control my urges and I read the thing. It started out great. She was happy to see me grow and had tons of plans for what to do when I was finally there. My dad hadn't even started drinking yet then. Once I came out though, things changed.

"She thought of me as a monster. She said that I was cursed with these wings, thought that they were a punishment from God for something she'd done. She left after a little while. She just couldn't take being around me." Castiel said, taking a shaky breath.

"That's sort of why I freaked out when you found my wings. I thought that you were going to freak out and tell everyone, and then I'd get labeled as a freak for the rest of my life." He said. There was a silence as Dean digested everything, unsure of what to really say at a time like this.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbled, leaning over to kiss Castiel's forehead. "No kid should ever have to go through that. She was an idiot, I'm sorry man."

"Don't blame her, she just didn't know." Castiel said, looking down. He could almost feel the shock radiating off of Dean.

"_'Don't blame her'_? Really? Because it sounds to me like she abandoned her only child because she just couldn't take that you were different. Almost nobody would have done that, even in that situation. She was stupid as hell, and you shouldn't have to live with the pressure she put on your shoulders by leaving." Dean announced, getting a little fired up. Castiel had to be a little angry. Dean's feelings were contagious, and this one was particularly strong.

"You know what my mom did about my wings? She was there for me every day. She told me that my wings made me special and that she didn't care that I was different. She told me that they meant angels were watching over me, and that they would come in handy some day. She never once told me that they were a bad thing." Dean said. "Even if your mom really did believe that they were a punishment from heaven or whatever, she abandoned you. She ran away like a coward." Dean pointed out.

Castiel simply nodded his head, not wanting to let himself be angry. He couldn't really argue with the logic, though. So, he changed the subject.

"So, where's your mom now?" Castiel asked. Dean sighed, shifting to get more comfortable.

"She died when I was a kid. My dad... Well, he's sort of in a dangerous work field." Dean said sheepishly, chuckling. There was still an air of sadness about it when he talked, but it sounded like he had gotten over her death. "He bounty hunts. My mom's dad did it too, and it got him and his wife killed. Eventually, my mom broke out of the life and they went to have us with dad working as a mechanic. You make some enemies doing stuff like that though, and one of her dad's old foes found out where she lived. They... They set the house on fire." Dean whispered. "I was in there with Sammy when it happened. We were on the top floor, and there was no way out. Mom put him in my arms and pushed me to the window. I had never used my wings before, but she was sure that I could and the flames were too high to even try going out of the door with a six month old baby in your arms. She had always cut holes in my shirt so my wings could be free around the house, so they were out and ready to go. She made me jump out the window with Sammy, and she didn't make it out." He said. There was pain in his voice as he recalled the swirling heat and confusion and the pain. "Of course, I was too young to be strong enough to lift a second person. Sammy was too much and my wings only slowed things down. I ended up breaking one of my legs.

"Ever since then, I can't bring myself to fly. No matter what I do, it just feels too dangerous. I know my mom would have wanted me to learn how, but..." Dean sighed at this point. "All I can think about is how if it had been any higher, at least one of us would have died. I can't trust these things." Dean said, shaking his wings a little to illustrate his point. Castiel nodded his head, a small frown appearing on his face.

"What was it like, though? Flying?" He whispered, curious. Dean snorted.

"It was more like falling with style, but..." Dean said, biting his lip. "While I was in the air, it was amazing. It felt like I had never been more free in my entire life and probably never would be. I would give anything to be able to do it again, but I don't think I could."

Castiel processed the information, frowning a bit. There was still one thing that wasn't quite making sense to him. "Why did your dad go into bounty hunting if your mom had gotten away from it?"

"He didn't get into it until after she died. She was... Well, it was her father's enemy that did her in, and my dad sort of got obsessed with revenge. He dragged us into this life; me and my brother have both been raised so far as hunters. I'm not going to lie, it's not been easy. But he's a good man and he's saved a lot of people." Dean said, looking down. "I just wish he was around more. Sammy is always asking questions about dad and where he is, it's like he hardly knows anything about the guy except that he's a hunter. Not only that, but he's raising us as hunters. I don't really mind, but Sam wants to be a lawyer, you know?" Dean mumbled, closing his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd told anybody about all of this, and he found himself getting carried away. "I just wish that he could have it better. All this moving hasn't been good on him."

"I can imagine not." Castiel said, frowning. It sounded like the Winchesters led a life just as lonely as his own. He thought back to the bright eyed boy who he'd spent a few hours with over the last two weeks. He was strong for being so young and going through all of that. Dean, too, especially Dean. As much as it would have been nice to have someone like a brother, Castiel could tell that it would be stressful feeling like you had to care for someone. Especially since, as far as he was currently concerned, Dean's dad was no better than his own mother.

"He has no right to let his obsession control your life like that." Castiel said, letting himself be concerned for somebody else for once. Caring was always a weakness and he knew that, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care right now. "You and Sam should be able to have some sort of stability in your life. He should have thought of what you two needed in all of this. If he's really never home, you're raising Sammy. No kid should have to raise another kid."

Dean frowned, looking over at Castiel.

"He's a good man." He repeated dumbly. "I'm not angry at him for it, he's saved lots of people. Bobby, a friend of his, has been taking care of us whenever he swings by, and even has other hunters check up on us sometimes." Dean excused. Castiel shook his head, trying not to get angry with Dean.

"Okay then. What are you going to do when he makes you leave here?" Castiel demanded, lifting up his head and looking into Dean's eyes with a fresh kind of intensity. "When he makes you leave me?"

Castiel hadn't thought about it until then, but it was a very real possibility. Dean's dad was constantly moving them, dragging them across the country, and they were probably due for a move any time. Castiel could feel the fear start to come down on him, and suddenly, he had trouble breathing. He fought it off though, not ready to deal with his emotions on the subject. He couldn't think about how hurt he would be if he had to let Dean go.

Sean's eyes flickered in realization, but he remained neutral. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He mumbled. Castiel was somehow able to convince himself that he was satisfied with the response. He closed his eyes and leaned back again, breathing in the scent of grass and ocean and Dean. He had to enjoy this while he had it; he knew better than anyone that good things never stay.

Dean could be gone sooner than he could comprehend.

Their night seemed to last forever, looking up at the stars and making hushed confessions in the dead of night. Dean admitting that he had actually made a girl mad enough at him to pants him in front of the entire school, Castiel confessing that he had hardly even thought about flying before now, Their words carried away by the wind as they just let go. Castiel felt free, like slowly the sand bags weighing him down were coming open and spilling out their sand. He felt almost weightless.

He felt like he could fly.

They knew that they had to get back home when Dean's cell phone started ringing. Sam was calling him over and over, worried for his well being. He had known that Dean and Castiel were fighting, and he just wanted to check up on everything and make sure they were doing okay. Dean had sheepishly admitted then that they had stayed out too long.

They climbed off the car, the lack of a body beside him temporarily freezing Castiel as the cold of the night set upon his warmed skin. He quickly climbed off of the hood after that, getting in the front seat as soon as possible and grabbing his trench coat, slipping it on over his shirt. Dean put his own shirt loosely around his shoulders, but he made no effort to pin his wings down this time, letting them push proudly against the fabric. He didn't like having them concealed, but he knew it was probably a bad idea to try and drive like that. If somebody saw... Well, it might not end up very well.

He reached over buckled up before driving Castiel back to his house, the conversation kept to a minimum as they just cruised along the open road. It all seemed a little cliche for his tastes, but Dean had to admit that this was probably the easiest he'd ever been able to get along with somebody. Not just somebody though, but the one person in the world who could truly understand him.

No matter what Castiel said, Dean was certain that they had been given these wings because they were supposed to find each other. Like a beacon in the nigh or a mark upon the heart, the wings were the one thing that separated them from everyone else. I mean come on, what were the chances that they found each other? Out of hundreds of thousands of millions of people, Dean had chosen to fall in love with Castiel, out of them all. There was no way that fate wasn't involved in there somehow. Their wings were meant to be a calling card, and Dean felt like that gave him strength.

He had never before thought about his father possibly being a bad father. He had always taken what was given, taken care of Sammy, learned to bounty hunt and put himself in dangerous situations for the sake of his dad, never once questioning it. He had been raised with the blind obedience of a child, but he was finally growing up. Maybe Castiel was right. Maybe Dean's dad wasn't so good after all.

All Dean knew was that he wasn't going to leave this place. His dad could cry and scream and beg and hit and yell, but he needed Castiel now.

He needed him by his side, to be his friend. To be the boy he had fallen in love with. The small genuine smile and the trench coat and the slightest bit of stubble when you could tell he'd woken up late. The bluest eyes to ever blue and the slight blush he'd get at every compliment. His laugh, his witty remarks, his playful banter that Dean had grown addicted to. Even if it was his father, Dean was not going to leave Cas for anybody. At the very least, not if he had anything to say about it.

After that night, they were tighter than a knot. Castiel and Dean could be seen holding hands or arm-in-arm in almost any situation, playfully eyeing each other or just talking about things that they'd seen or things that they'd heard. If you were lucky, you could catch them staring intensely into each other's eyes or pecking one another's cheeks. These small intimate moments kept them going for the most part, and Castiel was in utter bliss.

The day of the project rolled around, the last day of school. Castiel fidgeted nervously at the prospect of school actually ending, but he dealt with it silently. He was sure that Dean would come and see him every day that he could over the summer.

For the days without Dean, there were always books.

The light switch was pushed down on Dean's request, leaving the class slightly confused and primarily curious. Castiel and Dean stood at the front of the classroom, a poster board sitting down and the projector's tip just barely peeking out from Dean's book bag (Castiel didn't even know he had a book bag until then) and ready to get the show on the road. The teacher quieted down the class and nodded for them that it was time to start.

The crinkle of the poster board made Castiel flinch as he looked at the abundance of scientific information that he had put together about stars. He didn't need to read much of it and he would be done with his part, and then he'd get to listen to Dean's story again.

"Stars are a gaseous composure, millions and billions of miles away from the earth. The sun being the closest one, it's the one that we're most common with." He read, reciting it from the paper. He saw the other students looking around in boredom and lack of interest, and he cleared his throat, attempting to sound more appealing and exciting.

"One of the main constellations we know is the Big Dipper. It was used as a directional pointer by slaves in the country to get to the north. But many don't know that there were actually several legends surrounding its origins, one of the most fascinating in my opinion, being from the Cherokee." He announced. He was done with his lines then, and he let out a shaky breath that he hasn't been entirely aware he was holding in. He put down the poster board on the table, reaching over to Dean's backpack to flip on the switch.

Thanks to Dean building a special holder for the projector, it could play facing entirely upwards. He had rigged everything so that the stars shone brightly on the ceiling as they flickered to life, and Castiel brought out his laser pointer. He looked up in time to see the heads of his fellow peers turning upwards and several amazed expressions, including that of the teacher. There was a small satisfaction in his heart as he traced the Big Dipper with the laser light.

Dean started to tell the story, and everyone was listening with rapt attention. Castiel even found himself caught up in the way Dean's gravely voice swooped to create effect, and the way he incorporated some humor into his little speech. Every ear was tuned in, and Castiel found himself lovingly staring at Dean about halfway through it, and he just knew that he was making puppy dog eyes. He couldn't really bring himself to care, though. Dean was enchanted when he talked... It warmed Castiel's heart to no end.

Finally, the presentation was done. Castiel took a moment to realize that it was over and he'd been staring at Dean too long, but once he did, he (blushing) reached over and turned off the projector, leaving only a small whirring sound as the machine slowly came to a halt.

There was a moment of silence in the class, and he felt a little awkward up there all by himself. He cleared his throat, offering everyone a weak smile, hoping that there silence wasn't a sign that he and Dean had done something bad. Slowly, the silence intensified, until a slow clap of hands was heard in the back.

The students seemed to take that as their cue, and the sound increased all at once with proclamations of "you guys did great!", and "you're gonna ace this bros!" The teacher stood again, waving his hands in a downward motion to settle down the kids. When that didn't work, he resorted to yelling over them for a couple of seconds until they finally settled down. Finally, the room was silent, and he turned towards Castiel and Dean with a small smile on his face.

"You two both get an A. I feel sorry for whoever has to follow up that performance."

Castiel felt triumph rush through him, and Dean leaned over and kissed his forehead right in front of the class. He felt his face turn red, but he didn't comment. "Hey, can we go and put the projector up now? We wouldn't want it to get broken." He asked, wanting to talk to Dean. The teacher nodded his head and gestured his hand towards the door, a clear sign of dismissal.

"Go ahead and take your stuff too. It's only ten minutes until the bell, and you two certainly earned it."  
Dean and Castiel nodded, obediently picking up their things and scurrying off. The door opened with a whoosh, and they eagerly pushed themselves through it, smiling broadly.

As soon as the door shut, Castiel spun around to face Dean, pumping a celebratory fist in the air.

"We did great!" He exclaimed, leaning in to initiate a hug. Dean put down his back pack as soon as it was done, holding out his arms again for a more proper one. Castiel complied and Dean picked him up, spinning him around in a dramatic circle before letting him drop again. Castiel felt his hair get tossled up when Dean ran a hand through it, and he growled in frustration. Dean laughed, but he released Castiel and turned to grab their bag.

"We should get to the locker now." He pointed out. "We only have so much time."

So they started walking in silence, down the hallways and around to where their lockers were. They got there and Castiel put all of his things into his locker, except for his fifth period book which he knew he would need. After he was done, they stood there for a moment in awkward silence. They still had five or six minutes until the bell rang, and neither was sure what to do.

That is, until Dean pushed Castiel up against the locker, his eyes boring into Castiel's soul. He leaned forward until his lips were at Cas's ear, and Castiel felt a shiver go through him.

"Why don't we find a way to pass some of this time?" He purred. Castiel nodded his head weakly, feeling his lips start to buzz in want of Dean's pressed against them. No matter how many times they kissed, it would always feel like the first to him. The connection that they had seemed to only grow stronger with time, and Castiel knew that it was going to continue on that path. Even if he didn't think it had anything to do with their wings, he knew that he and Dean were soul mates.

"You always taste so sweet." Dean purred, slowly trailing his lips along the flesh leading to Castiel's lips. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and knotted his fingers in Dean's hair, using his hold to momentarily take control of things. He impatiently pressed their lips together, melting as soon as he felt Dean's begin to move against his own. He let out a small sigh against Dean's lips, relaxing his hold on Dean's hair and letting his body drain of tension as the kiss began to slow down. Dean pressed his body up against Castiel's, and Cas felt his back hit the cool metal of the lockers. He gave a shiver at the temperature change and felt Dean chuckle.

"We need to stop soon or people are going to see." Castiel gasped between kisses. Dean smiled.

"Let them." He retaliated, moving Castiel away from the lockers just long enough to wrap an arm around his waist. Castiel allowed it, knowing by now what Dean liked to do and enjoying the safe feeling that it brought him. He felt his mind go cloudy as Dean's lips returned with force again, and he couldn't quite remember why he wanted to stop in the first place. He made a low sound in the back of his throat before he put his hands on Dean's arms.

The bell made him jump and he pushed Dean off just as the students began to pour out of the classrooms. He shot Dean a glare, but it probably didn't have the intended effect with his shirt still ruffled up and his lips kiss-swollen to perfection.

"We don't want to get in trouble!" He hissed, smiling despite attempting to stay angry. Dean saw right through it.

"Yeah yeah yeah, you loved it." He teased, his usual dopey smile making an appearance. Castiel shook his head and fixed his hair the best that he could with one hand, his other reaching over to grab his fifth period text book from where it had fallen on the floor. He hadn't even noticed that it fell in the passion of the kiss.

They went their separate ways then, Castiel shooting a small smile over his shoulder.

The summer came and brought sweet relief to the kids, all of them practically running out of the school in a frenzy of adrenaline and summer-induced craze. Castiel waited patiently for Dean by their locker, and he smiled when he saw the familiar blonde head bobbing over the rest of the students. He was a little tall for his age... Castiel was okay with feeling short though, so it was okay.  
Dean walked by and they took the trip out to the car together before sharing in a long, slow kiss. Castiel almost dropped his mostly empty bag on the pavement, but Dean pulled away just in time for him to realize what was happening and scramble to catch it. He chuckled a little bit, throwing it in the back and slipping into the front seat.

Dean dropped Castiel off at his house, leaning over for a final small peck before Castiel climbed out.

"I'll take you out tomorrow for iced cream to celebrate." Dean said. Castiel nodded his head, grinning at the prospect. This would be his first summer that he looked forward to. He wouldn't have to spend his days lonely and too hot in the sun and lack of air conditioning that his house offered.  
"Okay. But only if you let it be my treat, you paid for dinner last time." He reminded Dean. Dean rolled his eyes but went along with it, not wanting to argue right then. He knew that Castiel didn't get money very often, except for when his grandma visited or the extremely occasional money from his dad. It meant a lot to him that Cas wanted to spend it on doing things together when he could be spending it on himself.

"Fine." Dean grumbled. "Bye." He said. Castiel, instead of actually saying it, gave a small wave as he slipped out of the car. Dean was slowly learning that Castiel was typically not a man of many words, especially when you got to know him. He was concise and to the point, unless he was cracking a joke or responding to one of Dean's. Actually, now that he thought about it, Castiel didn't put effort into responding to anyone but him.

Castiel was through the door before Dean started the car back up, rolling down his window just a little further to let the air come in. The drive to his home was actually fairly short, but it felt like years without Castiel there with him. So, when he finally got there, he groaned and shut off his truck, ready to go inside and have a coke with Sammy, ask how his day went.

There was something off, though. The driveway was usually empty, maybe with Bobby's truck, but today was different. A black van with heavily tented windows was in their driveway too, the doors open and a couple of boxes in the back. Dean felt himself go numb with dread and terror. He'd seen this sight enough times before to know what it meant.

His dad was going to move them again.

He slowly climbed out of the car, just in time to see Sammy carrying the large box of his possessions out to the car. John made them keep everything that they owned down to a few boxes, so that in the event that they had to move they would be out of a town quick.

"Dean!" Sammy called out. Dean could hear the weariness in his brother's voice; he'd been sick of moving for a long time.

Dean shut the door to the impala, walking over to the front door to slowly poke his head in the door. He saw John picking up one of three boxes left, and he tried not to feel panicked. Panic would help nobody in this situation.

"Dean, good. We need to move again, I found a case in Michigan. I was thinking about taking your little brother down for his first hunt too. Does that sound good?" He asked, setting down the boxes. He walked over to Dean with a much too cheery smile on his face before he patted his son on the shoulder, smiling the entire time. Dean thought that the smile would make him sick.

Suddenly, he thought of what Castiel had said. He could be mad. He had the right to be angry.

"No, no, it's not okay." He said slowly. "I have friends here. You can't keep uprooting me and Sammy like this." He said bravely. John's smile slowly began to fade from his face. A moment's confusion flickered across his expression before Dean's words sunk in. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched.

"We don't have time for you to be a sissy. You and your brother will be fine. We're moving, and you need to pack your things." John said darkly.

Dean felt defeated.

There was a flash of flannel clothing as he saw Bobby walking around in the back room. Time seemed to slow down as he felt his body automatically turn to obey his father, headed towards his room.

_"He should have thought of you and Sammy in all of this."_ Castiel's words echoed in his head. He continued to march, trying to shake off the fighting spirit that was threatening to rise in him. Fighting would never get him anywhere with John, the man had taught him everything that he had known.  
_"Okay then. What are you going to do when he makes you leave here?"_ Castiel demanded, lifting up his head and looking into Dean's eyes with a fresh kind of intensity.

Dean feels his feet stop moving as he stops fighting against it, the thought of how broken Castiel would be if he left giving him the strength to stop. If he left now, he had no clue how much or even if he would be able to see Castiel again. His dad didn't let them keep the same cell phone for long, and Castiel wouldn't be able to afford one. After this, what if he never saw Cas again? What if he couldn't find him, they never got to kiss or hug or even say goodbye?

_"When he makes you leave me?"_

The phrase echoes in his head, and it is the loudest quiet-spoken thing he's ever heard. Fire burns in his eyes and across his soul as he turns on his heel, growling a bit in his throat.

"NO, we're NOT moving again." Dean hissed, marching up towards his father. He suddenly had the urge to appear as intimidating as possible, and every muscle in his body puffed up, including his wings. It was a dang good thing that Bobby already knew about them, because the tearing of fabric as they fought their way out of his shirt had his footsteps trailing through the kitchen to see what happened.

"I'm sick of all the stuff you're putting us through. We're not your carry on bags for you to haul wherever you please. I don't care where you're going, but we're staying here!" Dean exclaimed. John's face was a mixture of shock and rage.

There was a sharp pain in Dean's jaw, and he felt his body hit the floor. His world slowly faded into black, the last thing he heard being his little brother calling out his name.

When he came to, his head hurt like hell and he could vaguely register an ice pack resting against his chin, as well as a cold rag sitting on his forehead. He let out a long groan, his brow crinkling as he began to slowly open his eyes. The light burned.

"He's waking up!" Sam cried excitedly. Dean heard some footsteps and a blurry figure came to hover over him. He tried to force his eyes to focus on Sam, but his vision just kept swimming and blurring right when he almost had it. His head was dully throbbing and he groaned again, trying to remember what had happened.

Oh.

His father had punched him. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and his vision cleared. He focused on Sam's face, gasping a little. "Sammy?"

Sammy had a huge smile stretched across his face, and his eyes shone as he looks down at Dean. A heavier set of footsteps could be heard, and Bobby's signature cap was the first thing he noticed. Bobby had a torn look on his face, like he wasn't sure whether to congratulate Dean or call him an idjit.

"Sammy, go and get another ice pack." Bobby demanded. Sammy nodded his head eagerly and ran out of the room and into the kitchen. Suddenly, Dean wondered where they were.

He sat up and looked around, his eyes scanning the wallpaper expectantly, as if it would give him some sort of indication as to where they were.

"So, what's her name?" Bobby asked flatly, raising his hand to take a drink. Dean just now noticed that he was drinking a beer, and there were bags under his eyes.

"What?" Dean asked dumbly, seemingly unable to comprehend what Bobby was asking. His answer was a raised eyebrow.

"A boy don't go down fighting like that over something he's never resisted before without a reason. It's been written all over your face lately; don't even try to pull that it's nobody, because you're in love." Bobby said, shaking his head. Dean gave it a moment to process, hoping that the surprise wasn't too evident on his face. His thoughts immediately drifted to Castiel and he blushed, clearing his throat and trying to sit up a little. Bad idea, because the room started spinning and he collapsed back down. He noticed then that he was on an overly-fluffy, Victorian-style couch.

He gave a deep sigh, knowing that denying himself to Bobby would be futile. "His name is Castiel. Bobby, he couldn't be more perfect."

"His? Well that's new. You've never showed much interest in relationships of the other kind." Bobby said. Dean knew that Bobby didn't care though, so he didn't take it as an insult.

"You knew I was bi." He reminded him.

"Yeah, but your preference has always been women." Bobby said, "This boy must be something special."

"You have no idea." He laughed. "He... Bobby, he's like me." Dean said, lowering his voice. He didn't want to give away Castiel's secret, but Bobby knew about his wings anyway and had never told anyone. It wasn't like he was telling someone untrustworthy. "He's got wings."

Bobby couldn't have hidden the shock on his face if he tried. He had thought, like the rest of them, that Dean was the only one in the world. He had suspected that there were others, though, he'd just never been really convinced of it.

"Well then, it sounds like he's a real keeper. He does feel the same way, right?" Bobby asked, his eyebrows crinkling. Dean nodded his head and closed his eyes again.

"He makes me want to be a better person." Dean said finally. Bobby nodded. Yup, Dean had it bad. "He... I don't know, Bobby. He makes me want to fly."

Bobby almost dropped his beer. Dean had been terrified to fly ever since his mom died, and he knew it. He'd asked Dean why he didn't want to learn how to fly when he was younger and practically received a panic attack. If this Castiel character made Dean want to learn how to fly after all that, then he must be really important. He could see why Dean chose now to stand up to John.

"So when do I get to meet him?" Bobby asked. Dean smiled a bit.

"Sometime soon, hopefully." Dean said. He heard Sam return and flinched as the ice pack on his chin was replaced, but sighed as the new cold seeped into his jaw. "So, what exactly happened and how long was I out?" He questions.

"Well, John punched you and I ran and told him I would call the police if he didn't leave then. After that, he called me. I told him that I had taken pictures of your bruises and if he didn't let you and Sam live with me, I'd call children services so fast it'll make his head spin. He tried to defend himself, but I brought up how much he leaves you idjits alone and he couldn't argue with that. So, you're staying with me." He clarified. Dean felt his jaw drop open and his eyes snapped up. It made sense now, how Sam was looking at him like a hero. "So I found an empty house and Sam and I broke in, tossed you on the bed. We'll get the place later, so it won't be so illegal." Bobby chuckled. Dean continued to listen, feeling a flood of relief flow through him.

He'd done it. Castiel was staying with him and he was staying with Castiel. They wouldn't have to separate, he didn't have to worry about never seeing Cas again.

"You've been out for three hours. You cracked your head on the floor when you went down, we almost took you to the hospital, but we figured you'd pull through." Bobby explained. Dean grinned even wider, looking up at Bobby.

"I don't know how I could ever thank you." He said. "Bobby, you have no clue how much this means to me and Sam..."

"I know exactly how you can thank me." Bobby interrupted. Dean halted, listening with rapt attention. Bobby gave a small smile. "Castiel is coming over for dinner tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
He Dreams Of Flying

**Okay guys. It's late and I edited this inbetween playing Cards Against Humanity with some people I barely know on the internet. It was very fun. So, basically, don't get on me for mistakes I have to live my life XD. Enjoy~**

Castiel ran out of his house, the sound of the horn reminding him that he was keeping Dean waiting.

He ran out the front door happily, the money in his pocket. He brought a little extra just in case Dean had brought Sammy, even though he highly doubted it. Dean tended to like their time alone to be their time alone. He straightened up a little as he walked up to the impala, wanting to look just a little bit taller. Dean had him by about three inches, but Castiel could make himself look tall when he wanted to.

He climbed in the passenger seat, leaning over to give Dean a kiss on the cheek. Instead of the usual chuckle, the contact was met with a pained hiss. Castiel pulled back with his head slightly cocking to the left in curiosity, eyes searching for an explanation. It didn't take very long to find it.  
All along Dean's jaw were splotches of black, yellow, purple, and even blue. He let out a gasp as soon as he saw it, curiosity turning to guilt as he realized that he had touched the obviously tender area.

"I'm so sorry! What happened?" Castiel asked immediately. He was filled with concern for Dean; he didn't know what had happened, but it looked dangerous. Dean simply smiled though, and his eyes shone with a kind of pride that Castiel hadn't seen in them before.

"My dad punched me in the face." He chuckled, his grin stretching even wider. He lazily let his head fall over to look at Castiel, and the sun through the windshield shone on his face. Castiel thought that he'd never looked more like an angel, but the words alarmed him to no end. Dean's father, the one who killed or captured people for a living, had punched him in the face?

"What? Why would he-?" Castiel started to ask, but he lost his voice. Dean closed his eyes and sighed, turning his head back away from Castiel and leaning it back on the seat, relax evident on his features. He was obviously not concerned by this turn of events.

"Because I grew a pair of balls, that's why." Dean answered. Castiel stayed silent, waiting for Dean to elaborate. Dean eventually took the hint and he started up the car as he began to speak. "He tried to move us again, and I stood up for myself. He got angry and punched me in the face. Bobby was there and saw the whole thing. He said if he didn't want to let us stay with him that he could tell children services about this little episode and we'd be gone for good. My dad was cornered into it, and Bobby found an old house a little outside of town that we're moving into. We did it, Cas." He said, looking down. His eyes shone like he was fightingback tears, and Castiel felt a mixture of happiness and disbelief coming up inside him.

"I don't have to leave you now."

Dean had done that for him. Dean had taken a punch, stood up to his father, and did what was right, all for him. Castiel, for once in his life, didn't have to lose everything again. Dean was his and he was Dean's, and they were staying together now, no matter what.

He grabbed Dean's coat and pulled him in close, pressing their lips together heatedly. Dean froze for a moment, eyes widening before they slowly began to close, Castiel's lips sending waves of electricity trough him. He leaned towards his lover as Castiel's nimble fingers knotted in his hair, and he forgot everything that wasn't Castiel. He leaned over slowly, placing his hand on Cas's hip as the intensity of the kiss increased. He felt his side bump something, but he was too consumed with Cas's lips working against his to really care. That is, until they started moving backwards.

Dean jerked his body away from Cas, shock and panic filling him up. He slammed his foot on the break and they stopped rolling, the car jerking the slightest bit as they stopped. It took Dean a moment to realize that he had accidentally hit the handle to take the car out of park. Castiel came to this realization at the same time, an they both looked at each other's shocked and bewildered faces.

Suddenly, laughter filled the car. The relief and joy and beauty of the moment was not something one could easily forget. Sides were gripped as they were doubled over with joy, and Dean fumbled through the fit to try and put the car back into break. They laughed like they were alone and nobody was watching; they laughed like this was their last chance in the world to.

When they finally stopped laughing, the noise dying down to small chuckles as they caught their breath, the silence was comfortable and lighthearted.

"So," Dean said, still smirking just a bit, "Do you mind if we go ahead and do something after the iced cream?"

Later, Castiel found out that the "something" involved a lot of lifting heavy things.

Dean rolled up to the house he now shared with Bobby, Castiel in the seat besides him. He explained to Castiel on the way that Bobby had requested to meet him over dinner tonight, and Castiel had eagerly obliged. He ran back home and even changed into a nicer shirt, a dark blue button-down that he had acquired for freshman graduation a couple years back. He was nervous about meeting somebody so important to Dean, but he knew that he had nothing to worry about. Dean and him were already a thing, if they didn't like him, Dean wouldn't care. Cas really had nothing to lose.

When they'd arrived though, Castiel had found that Sam and a large man dressed in flannel were busy unpacking boxes from a large truck. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the truck was already halfway empty, but the boxes were large and heavy. He saw Sam struggling and have a small frown.  
"Is that Bobby?" He asked, pointing to the man.

"Yeah." Dean said, nodding his head in affirmation. "Gimme a second, let me go see what the down low is." He said. Castiel nodded.

Dean got out of the car and stepped into the blooming afternoon heat. It was two o'clock (he and Castiel might have stayed at the iced cream place a little longer than necessary kissing in the corner booth) and the sun was blazing down as hot as it would be for the day, but the light wind kept it more pleasant than anything.

Castiel watched as he walked up to Bobby, hugging the man before pulling away quickly and talking to him rapidly. After about thirty seconds of Bobby talking, Dean nodded his head and turned around to head back towards Castiel. His lips were pursed as if he had eaten something sour, and Castiel was worried that he had bad news.

"What's the face for?" Castiel teased as Dean climbed into the car.

"Well, apparently they weren't expecting us for a few hours, so they're not done with the truck yet and Bobby needs to go start dinner. Sam needs help with all those boxes, so..." Dean said, trailing off.  
"Do you want me to help?" Castiel offered, gesturing. Dean shook his head no automatically, not wanting to ask that of his boyfriend. Castiel rolled his eyes, knowing that Dean was only trying to be polite. "Come on, I want to help." He coaxed.

Hesitation flickered in Dean's eyes, and he paused, thinking. Finally, he made up his mind, and Castiel smirked, knowing what he was going to say.

"Okay, but on one condition." Dean said, holding up a finger. Castiel nodded his head, encouraging Dean to continue. "You're not leaving your wings in your shirt."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, dead panning. Dean simply smiled and turned away from the car, waving his hand to signal to Castiel that he should follow. Castiel had no other option but to do so.

They climbed up the stairs, passing Bobby's kitchen and about a million half empty or entirely full boxes scattered around, along with a couch and a couple of homey rugs. Dean lead him up the stairs, ignoring the remaking of protest from the aged wood. They passed a couple of closed doors, down a narrow hallway, and finally Dean stopped in front of a large and ornately carved door. He swung it open slowly, letting Castiel take in the cracked and faded wallpaper for a moment before revealing a wall full of rock band posters, the corners either worn or torn from being removed and replaced over and over again. Castiel felt a pang when he thought of all the houses that they have seen, all of the times Dean has hurriedly torn them from the walls to flee to a new location.

He stepped into the room, ignoring the slightly cooler temperature in favor of feeling his curiosity peak. Dean walked over to the dresser with no explanation and began rummaging through, and Castiel felt like he was going to explode if he didn't get an explanation. He stood there quietly though, knowing that Dean wouldn't give him an answer anyways if he were to try and ask for one. He scanned Dean's room in the mean time, trying to pick up on the little things.

There were a couple of old comic books, their projector sat proudly in a corner on top of an old chair that looked like it had probably come with the place. He noticed at least three guns and a couple of knives, wooden and wicked-looking. These were clearly not the kind of knives you would find at your average convenience store; pocket knives dulled in comparison to the sharply curved blades that glistened with fresh polishing. Castiel moved on, shoving the weapons to the back of his mind as he noticed a very old sketch book, the pages wrinkly and yellow, but also stained with an odd grey sort of color, like it had been dropped in too much dust.

Finally, Dean found what he was looking for, and he called out, "Bingo."

Castiel's head snapped up, his eyes training in on the raggedy article of clothing that Dean was holding up. Dean had a smile on his face as he tossed one of the old shirts to Castiel, keeping the other one in his own hands. Castiel stared blankly at the article of clothing for a moment.

"You wanted me to change my wardrobe?" He asked with a frown. Dean shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips.

"You know how I said that when I was little my mom used to cut holes in some of my shirts to make sure that I was comfortable? Well, I carried on the tradition, and there you are." Dean announced, looking at the shirt. He soon began to strip off his own, and Castiel turned his head and averted his eyes, offering Dean a little bit of privacy. He knew that the same courtesy would be returned to him.  
"What if somebody driving by sees us?" Castiel said worriedly, and he was met with a snort. Dean was shaking his head as if Castiel was foolish.

"They're not gonna say anything about it. They'll just think we're furries." Dean compromised. Castiel looked back at him to see his wings spread out proudly behind him, the black shirt that he had chosen clinging to his form. Castiel fought the impulse to stare an looked away quickly, blushing.

"I'm not sure what that is. I've not had my wings free except to shower for years. I'm used to the discomfort by now, it'll be fine." Castiel argued, crossing his arms over his chest. Dean rolled his eyes at the display, not giving away the fact that he thought it was adorable.

"Well you've seen mine, it's only fair that I see yours." Dean said, smirking. Castiel felt blood rush to his face, but he managed to keep his expression fairly neutral, reminding himself that Dean was always a pervert and he would have to get used to it sometime.

"And Bobby?" He questioned. He just wanted to make sure.

"Knows about you because I told him the truth when he asked why I lo-" dean stuttered a second before clearing his throat. "Like you so much." He covered up, smiling sheepishly. The mistake did not go unnoticed by Castiel, who felt a thrill go through him at the mention. Did Dean... Had Dean almost said that he loved him?

He shook his head to clear it, but he couldn't help the smile stretching itself across his face, and the blush returning, with more of a pleasant feeling of warmth this time.

"Okay, fine." He said reluctantly. His hands hesitated at the bottom of his short and he but his lip. Dean's eyes were still glued to his own, and he knew that he would feel uncomfortable changing like that. They didn't have time to work out the couple of minutes of awkward it was going to cause, Sam needed help. "Well, give me some privacy." He complained.

Dean rolled his eyes but did as he was asked, turning around and putting his hands up in the air like he had just been caught. Castiel slowly unbuttoned his shirt, knowing that if he went too fast he was going to mess up and take even longer. Finally, the top button was undone, and he let it fall to the floor, immediately replacing it with the white shirt that Dean had supplied him with. He looked down at his chest to see a band logo; which band, of course, he hadn't a clue.

He experimentally shifted his muscles, groaning when he felt his wings stretch and grow in size, the feathers spreading. He was grateful that he had taken a shower and preened his wings this morning; he knew at the very least that they were clean. He enjoyed the feeling of being free for a moment before putting his wings down again, but still not as confined as before. They were half folded out in a position that he found quite comfortable, and he gave a pleasant sigh.

He looked over to see Dean looking appreciatively at him, his eyes glazed over in emotion. He felt himself freeze on the spot, and he felt a blush creep up on his face as Dean's eyes wandered over him, and he smiled just the slightest bit.

"You're so beautiful, Cas." Dean said. He bridged the gap between them, putting his hands firmly on Castiel's hips and looking deeply into his eyes. Castiel felt tense, a good kind of tension, as if he was holding himself back. He knew that Dean could feel it to, a sort of undertone of want that they had for each other. He felt his wings stretch out behind him further, his feathers puffing up, and Dean's wings did the same. It was like an odd display of a mixture of intimacy and co-dominance; they were both strong and capable, and this was sort of an odd way of showing it to each other.

There was a loud noise from downstairs, and the eye contact dropped. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension drain. He lifted his eyes ever so slightly to look at Dean and smiled again.  
"Okay, we should go and help Sammy now." Dean said reluctantly, looking at the door with distaste. Castiel laughed a little, smiling himself.

"We should. Your brother is going to think we're making out up here." Castiel confirmed, blushing a bit. Dean smirked but decided (for once) not to comment and he led the way, walking out the door and clomping down the stairs. Castiel followed quietly behind him, lifting his wings just a bit to avoid them touching the walls.

They walked outside and Castiel grabbed the first box he saw, not seeing a point in being picky about it. They all had to get moved anyways.

He lifted and lifted, walking and re-walking the path to the dining room table over and over again, the repetitive motions calming him and allowing him to not really focus on his actions. The breeze tickled his feathers and his muscles burned as he worked, Dean occasionally making funny comments or reaching out to ruffle his now sweaty hair, seeming to not care that Castiel probably looked like crap right then. Dean though-Castiel quite liked the "just worked out" look on Dean. He was constantly averting his eyes.

Eventually, Castiel walked back to the truck to find that it was entirely empty of boxes, the hollow insides earning a feeling of satisfaction from him. Dean arrived by his side seconds later and appreciated the sight with him, nodding his head just a bit in approval.

"Hey, Bobby says that dinner's ready. We should go inside and eat." Dean said, looking away from the truck and towards Castiel. Cas felt a little bit of anxiety begin to creep up in him, but he shoved it down to the best of his ability. He nodded his head and turned to look Dean in the eyes for a few seconds.

He was trying to decide whether or not it was a good idea to abandon reserve an kiss him now when Sammy ran out, and Dean's head whipped around towards him. The moment was ruined, and Castiel frowned a bit.

"Bobby said to come and make sure you two weren't making out. Actually, he frazed it, "Make sure those idjits aren't wasting time sucking each other's faces", but I figured the first was more polite." Sam said. Dean laughed, and Castiel was suddenly happy that he hasn't gone in for the kiss.

Dean grabbed his hand after that and began to lead him inside, thoughts of a nice, big dinner in mind. Then, maybe some pie for desert, if he was lucky.

"Come on you idjits, the food's gonna get cold. Was I right, Sam?" Bobby demanded, plopping down a large plate of mashed potatoes down on a large fold-out table that was just big enough for four people. Dean and Sam sat on either end of the table, and Castiel sat between them, meaning that he was across from Bobby.

The man plopped a bucket of fried chicken on the table, and Dean grinned like a child on Christmas morning.

"You know, this is my first family dinner in awhile." He declared, reaching forward to grab a huge piece of chicken off of the top. Castiel felt a little surge of pride go through him; Dean had just referred to him as family.

"At least wait until I get the plates." Bobby scolded, smacking Dean's hand. Dean's arms jerked in tension and he almost dropped his chicken, just barely managing to keep his hold on it. He looked up at Bobby and gave him the most sinister glare he could muster up, almost like he was trying to convey that plates were entirely unnecessary and Bobby's reaction was unorthodox. Which was, of course, exactly what he was trying to convey. Dean can say a lot with a look.

"So, do you do this kind of thing often?" Bobby asked Castiel, narrowing his eyes. Castiel didn't want to give the wrong answer, (and he knew that his probably was) but decided that honesty was the best policy. He didn't want to be accepted if it wasn't for who he really was, flaws and all.

"Well, not really. I've had a couple of thanksgiving dinners with my grandparents." He admitted sheepishly. Bobby nodded his head, grabbing a large package of paper plates from the cabinet. Castiel watched as a paper plate was set in front of him, then Sam, and then Dean, before finally a fourth one was dropped in front of Bobby's plate. After that, they tore in. They each grabbed what they wanted of everything, before sitting back and exchanging polite dinner conversation. Castiel found out that Bobby had been having Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas dinner for the boys the past three years behind their father's back, and that he had vowed to himself before Dean stood up that they weren't going to move again, anyways. Castiel had told him about his reading habits (kicking Dean under the table when he mumbled "nerd" under his breath) and his love for organic fruits. Dean told Castiel embarrassing stories about him and Sam from when they were younger- (the time Sam had tried to speak to a girl and actually got so nervous he accidentally asked her out in Latin was one of Castiel's favorites so far) and at the end of it all, his sides hurt from laughing so much and his stomach was satisfyingly full. He let out a stretch as Sam volunteered to get the plates, and he watched as his was cleared. He nodded his thanks to Sam and stood up, pushing his chair in.

"Your wings are an odd color of blue. They're nice. Dean's wings just make him look like a demon." Sam commented, shooting a look of superiority at him. Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled something about him being stupid and jealous, and Castiel could see that he needed cheering up on the subject.

"I think Dean's wings are..." He searched for the right adjective in his mind, not wanting to embarrass Dean or himself in front of Dean's family.

"Sexy?" Dean suggested with a wink. Castiel gave a small amused smile, nodding his head just the slightest bit.

"Something like that." He agreed. Their eyes met and a lopsided grin appeared on Dean's features. Castiel couldn't help but return it, Dean's sparkling green eyes making him happy no matter what the situation.

Bobby cleared his throat loudly, causing both of them to snap their heads towards them and breaking off the moment. He chuckled a bit.

"Do you want to stay and watch a movie? We have an extra bedroom upstairs with a blow up mattress in case it gets too late." Bobby offered. Castiel nodded his head eagerly without hesitation, always ready to spend more time with Dean. He smiled widely when Dean stood up and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him just a bit before letting his hand slide across Castiel's back, walking away and stopping in the doorway to turn his head and raise his eyebrow as if to say, "Are you coming yet?" That was when Castiel realized that his mouth was open just the slightest bit and he was staring after Dean like a dumbfounded child. He shook his head to clear it before walking across the kitchen in just a few short steps to join Dean at the doorway.

Dean grabbed Castiel's hand, not caring that Bobby was right behind them, his eyes trained on their every move.

"You got it bad, son." He mumbled quietly. Sam snorted beside him before following Cas and Dean into the next room.

"Don't worry!" He proclaimed loudly, "I'll make sure they don't go make out again."

Dean pulled Castiel with him down onto the small couch, wrapping an arm securely around Cas's shoulders and bringing him close. Castiel blushed a little when Bobby came in and sat on a second couch next to Sam, who was currently leading through Netflix titles with the remote in his hand. Dean occasionally commented on what he thought they should watch, and it settled on some sort of a cliché romantic comedy type thing. Castiel found it to be entertaining though, and it held his interest the whole way through.

Finally, the credits rolled. He was still snuggled up to Dean, and about halfway through the movie Dean's wing had casually fallen over his shoulder, his black feathers caressing the bare skin of Castiel's arms.

Sam yawned beside them and Bobby checked his watch, finding that it was much too late for Castiel to be there without just staying over.

"So, do you think your dad is going to mind if you went ahead and stayed over tonight?" Bobby asked. Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but Dean snorted beside him before cutting through the silence himself.

"Castiel's dad hardly even notices he's there. He's been out all night several times and his old man's not noticed." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. Castiel paused a moment before shrugging and nodding his head, knowing that it would be useless to try and defend his dad at this point.

"Well, is that so?" Bobby asked disapprovingly. There was a small pause and then Bobby shifted so that he was leaning towards Castiel, and his eyes looked serious. "You know, if he's really that bad of a parent, there'll always be room for you here at this house."

Castiel gave a sigh, feeling the tension release from his body. He felt so wary for so long about the lack of care he had received, and here was this man whom he had barely met offering to take him in. He felt relieved and excited and loved. It was like Christmas.

"I-I would love that." Castiel said genuinely.

"Well, if you can get him to sign over custody, we can work something out. Or if he refuses, you could always go to Children Services." Bobby announced, leaning back again. The seriousness in the air went away a little bit, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. He nodded his head curtly, deciding that speaking just felt wrong in this situation.

He was thinking over everything. What would he do? Would he be able to get his father to sign over custody? The questions swirled around in his mind like a whirlpool, and he seemed caught up in the flow.

Dean lightly nudged him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He smiled a little, glancing up to look at bright green eyes. "Having you here would be so much fun." He agreed, nodding his dad a bit. Castiel smiled broadly as they shared a small moment, both of them thinking about what it would be like to be able to spend time outside of school together all the time.

"You two would be put on separate floors." Bobby said flatly. "We don't need Sam walking in on a make out session and getting scarred for life." He mumbled. "That goes for tonight, too."

"Really?" Dean complained. Castiel shrugged his shoulders. Bobby nodded his head in confirmation and Dean groaned, leaning back on the couch.

"Okay, now let's get Castiel onto the air mattress. We don't have the spare bed set up yet in the bedroom, so that'll have to do for tonight." He said, standing up. Castiel and Dean followed, both standing in unison and walking down the hallway.

Bobby told them to go and "do whatever it is you high schoolers do" while he got everything set up. Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and led him back to his room where he proceeded to shove him against a wall, both of their wings stretched all the way out, and kissed him senseless. Their lips moved together as Dean's body pressed up against Castiel's, all passion and love mixed in with the danger of Bobby coming upstairs at any moment. Castiel's hands reached up to desperately knot his fingers through Dean's hair, while Dean's hands reached up to (surprisingly gently) stroke Castiel's feathers, causing a shiver to rake itself up his spine.

There was a pounding of footsteps against the floor and Dean broke away, putting his hands firmly at his sides. Castiel's fingers untangled themselves from Dean's hair as he stepped off of the wall, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Bobby's head popped in the door, and he made a gesture for Castiel to follow. Castiel and Dean shared a small smile before Cas walked forward, following Bobby back down the hallway and to the guest room.

It was a high-ceilinged room with a large, ornate window on one side. Castiel could see the stars and the moon out of it, twinkling up in the sky like that was their sole purpose. Castiel briefly wondered if that really was their sole purpose.

The inflatable mattress was thick and looked comfortable, as it was stacked up with a couple of comforters and four different pillows. Bobby nodded towards it quietly, and Castiel walked over and sat down. The room was a little small, but it was just right for him.

"Dean's really got it bad for you." Bobby said after a moment of silence. Castiel felt his face heat up as a pleasant hum of satisfaction went through his body.

"I-I've got it pretty bad for him, too." Castiel admitted sheepishly, averting his eyes. He looked instead of at Bobby towards the hardwood floors, wondering when the last time they had been varnished was.

"Well, I don't think you quite get how big a deal that is for Dean." Bobby said, taking a step into the room. Castiel hesitated, not sure what to make of the statement.

"What do you mean by that?" He finally asked, deciding that it was best to just get it out of the way. It would kill him thinking about it if he didn't just ask now. Bobby paused for a little while, thinking about how to word things.

"I mean, you better be willing for this to be a serious thing. I have a feeling you two are gonna be together for quite some time." He said. Castiel felt hope rise within him, and he nodded his head tightly. Bobby remained silent for a couple of minutes before he finished up with, "I'm gonna go get some sleep now. Goodnight." He said, walking out.

He shut the door behind him, leaving Castiel in darkness except for the moonlight shining through the window.

He turned over onto his stomach and grabbed one of the free pillows, clutching it to his body.  
Fifteen minutes later, the wood creaked as somebody lightly stepped across it. Castiel's head whipped around to zero in on his door, hearing the footsteps come ever closer.

The door slowly opened, and Castiel felt fear rising in his stomach.

"Cas?" Tentatively came trough the door. He sighed in relief, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Yes, Dean?" He said quietly, not wanting Bobby to overhear. Dean stepped entirely into the room, smiling sheepishly as he walked up to Castiel.

Dean simply lifted the covers and quietly slipped in between them. Castiel felt Dean's arm wrap around his torso and bring him closer, and he shivered from the welcome heat.

"You don't really think he expected us to stay separated, do you?" Dean asked playfully, grabbing one of the spare pillows. Castiel watched as Dean lay down beside him, his eyes trained on the moon out the window. Both of them were laying on their stomachs, and Dean's wins came out to wrap firmly around Castiel's body along with his arm. Castiel let his wings stretch out as far as they could, shivering when his feathers brushed up against Dean's.

"Goodnight, Dean." He whispered, too tired to try and stay awake and talk. Dean nodded his head and closed his eyes too, and together they let sleep overcome them.

"What are you two doing in here?" Was the yell that they woke up to.

Time flies by faster and faster when you're happy with where you are in life, something that Castiel was quickly realizing. The week it took to figure out how to get the custody change papers had felt like merely days, days which he spent packing up his unimpressive amount of things into seven boxes.

He even had his mother's old leather journal sitting on the top of one of them. He didn't want to pack it, but he didn't want to have to lose it just yet.

He strode into the kitchen the morning after he got the papers, determination burning in his eyes and in the pit of his stomach. He made a choice here: whether or not he was going to allow his drunken father drag him down for another three years.

So, he walked up confidently and slammed the papers on the counter, passion burning in his eyes.  
His father's eyes shifted down to the neatly folded stack and he raised an eyebrow.

"What is this?" He asked, placing a hand on it. He flinched at the noise as the paper crinckled just the slightest bit, giving away that he was both sober and hung over. Good, Castiel could use the headache to his advantage.

"Change of custody papers." Castiel said bravely. He watched as his father's expression remained calm, but there was something else in his eyes. 'Well, at least he's not angry.' Thought Castiel.

"What, do you want to go live with your grandparents now?" He asked, his brow furrowing. Castiel shook his head.

"No, there's a man named Bobby Singer that would be much better equipped to take care of me." Castiel said, his lips forming a hard line. His father looked up slowly, and a strange sadness shone in his eyes.

"This is about that boy, isn't it?" He asked. He didn't sound angry or upset, just like he'd probably known for awhile now and couldn't find the right time to say anything. Castiel felt the blood rush to his face and he knew he was given away.

"His name is Dean." He said simply, but then he realized how stupid that sounded. He shook his head, adding, "But no, he's not the only reason." He said, looking up towards his father.

"I love you, you know I do. I'm sorry I've not been the best dad that I could be, I really am. I know it's too late to change that now, but I want you to know that." His dad said. He looked like his teeth were gritted. "And as long as this 'Dean' character treats you right, I'm okay with him." He said. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly. "But if I sign these papers- because I love you enough to know I'm not gonna stop drinking permanently, as much as I may last a few days- you have to promise me every other weekend you'll come and stay until you're eighteen." He said. Castiel nodded, and his father's eyes opened to meet his. He didn't need to see the nod, he knew that Castiel would be on board before he said it.

He wanted what was best for his son, but he didn't want to lose him.

"Thank you, dad." Castiel whispered. His dad grabbed the pen they kept on the window sill and uncapped it quickly, trying to control his tears as the pen greeted the paper.

Castiel's father capped the pen back and handed it to Castiel, looking his son dead in the eyes. "Be good." He said.

Castiel nodded his head. "Dean will be here in about an hour to get my things. Until then..." He said, his eyes scanning the kitchen before coming to rest on some old playing cards. "Do you want to play go fish?"

Castiel's father smiled.

Dean showed up ten minutes early, right as Castiel won his third game in a row. His father snorted out "cheater" and Castiel's eyes lit up as he heard the purr of the engine cut off in his driveway.

He jumped up from the table quickly, walking out through the living room and answering the door with a big grin on his face. Dean stood proudly on the other side, hands in his pocket and jaw set.

"Did he sign the papers?" Dean asked. Castiel handed him the envelope proudly, nodding his head.

"As long as I come to see him every other weekend." Castiel informed him. Dean nodded his head, taking a few steps inside. Castiel's father rounded the corner, and he took a moment to look at Dean, his arm lazily coming up to rest on the banister.

"You're Castiel's boyfriend?" He asked. Dean nodded his head and put an arm around Castiel protectively. Cas blushed and his father sighed, closing his eyes. The smallest smile tugged itself onto the corners of his mouth.

"Don't hurt my little boy. Take care of him, and I don't care." Castiel's dad said. Dean didn't lose his serious expression, simply nodding. Castiel smiled a bit and grabbed Dean's hand, tugging him down the hallway and into his room.

Dean walked in and he nodded appreciatively at the stacks of boxes Castiel has organized.

"So, you're all ready to go?" Dean asked, walking over to the tallest stack. He picked up the leather book off of it, turning it over a couple of times in his hand.

Castiel lunged forward and grabbed it, pressing it up against his chest. Sean's eyebrow raised.  
"That's... That's my mom's old diary." He mumbled, looking down at the ground. Dean gave a frustrated sigh and looked down, too, putting his face into his hands.

"Why do you even still have that piece of trash? She treated you like crap, Cas." Dean reminded him. Castiel hesitated, before he slowly set the book back down on the box. He gave a deep sigh. Dean was right; the woman was crazy and he was keeping her diary for literally no good reason.

"I don't know." He said honestly. "Maybe I feel connected to her or something."

"Well, you know what they say about bad connections." Dean said. Castiel's head tipped a bit to the side as his eyes flickered up to meet Dean's.

"No, no I don't." He said, frowning. Dean paused for a minute, moving his head a bit.

"Well, uh... They're bad?" Dean said with attitude, looking at Castiel like it was obvious. Cas rolled his eyes and turned back towards the pile of boxes, picking one of them up.

"Okay then Einstein, what would you suggest I do with it?"

**Cliffhanger, I know. The next chapter is the last chapter, please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
He Dreams of Flying

**It was either publish early or late. You're welcome. Last chapter, R&R please!**

Castiel stood close to both the bonfire and Dean, staring it down like it held the answers to life.

Bobby and Sam had eagerly agreed when Dean had suggested the fire, and at first, it was fun. They roasted marshmallows (actually, Dean still had some marshmallow in his hair thanks to a food fight he and Sam had gotten in to near the beginning), told ghost stories, and generally had a good time. The warm crackle of the fire was dancing heat across their skin in a delicious way, and the night stars twinkled above them. Castiel watched as a stray ember came off and slowly began to reach for the sky, going higher and higher, dragging other embers up with it. Eventually, it looked like all of the embers were fading stars up above, red stars. It was one of the most beautiful things that Castiel had ever seen, and he felt so serene.

That is, until Dean reminded him of why they had actually had the bomb fire.

The leather book slipped out of his pocket and firmly into Castiel's hand, and he looked up at Dean in partial confusion. Castiel looked down and their conversation came flooding back to him.

"So what do you suggest we do with the journal, Einstein?" He asked. Dean paused for a moment, looking it over.

"We could burn it." Dean said. Castiel let out a light laugh, looking at Dean's serious expression before his smile slowly faded.

"You're serious?" He asked, frowning. Dean took a moment to gather his words before he nodded his head.

"She was a terrible mother. All having this is doing to you is dragging you down. You deserve better than this, Castiel." He said, his eyes shining with sincerity. Castiel looked down, unable to form the right words for the situation.

Burning something felt like more than just burning it. It felt like it would be a symbolic gesture, something that he would remember doing for the rest of his life. It felt like it would be his way of letting the idea of his mother go and moving on with his life, acknowledging that she was wrong and saying he was going to forget about her all together.

It wasn't all that that was his problem, though.

It felt like burning her journal would be burning his only chance at having a part of her. He needed to think though; Did he really want a part of a woman who abandoned him for something that he couldn't help?

"I-I'll think about it." Castiel said flatly. Dean nodded his head, he wasn't going to push the issue any more. If Castiel was going to do it, he was going to do it.

"We'll have a bonfire tonight. You can decide then." Dean said. Castiel nodded. That should be enough time, right?

They shared a brief, serious moment, their eyes silently communicating. It was time for Castiel to decide, and he was no closer to making his decision than he had been earlier. He shook his head in attempt to clear it, closing his eyes tightly.

Bobby didn't fail to miss the exchange. He slowly stood up, folding up his camping chair and clearing his throat. Castiel and Dean's heads both snapped up at the sound. "I think Sam and I better get heading off to bed now. You two take as long as you need." He said, patting Sam's back. Sam knew well enough that this was not a time when he should argue, so he nodded his head and stood up, grabbing his chair and pulling it up into his arms. He almost tripped walking back to the house, but he managed to make it in one piece. He looked back at the house to see Castiel and Dean silhouetted by the glow of the fire. He bit his lip and shook his head, going inside. He could tell that whatever happened out there tonight was going to be important.

"You do whatever you feel like doing." Dean said softly. Castiel nodded his head, looking down at the old book in his hands.

How many hours had he spent crying over it? How much time had he spent hating his wings, hating himself to the very core, just because of those words scrawled on a page? How many times had he tried to push people away-Dean included, just because he felt like the words in this book defined what he was truly and fully?

He clutched the cover, closing his eyes and breathing out of his nose.

When his eyes next opened, it was to watch the book that he had thrown sail into the fire.

He felt with a twisted kind of satisfaction as the flames overtook the leather, seeing how they clung to the fabric and caressed the dried-out pages, forcing it to erase itself, eradicate the words from history. He gave a self-satisfied smirk and turned to Dean, happiness radiating through him.

"I'm not going to let what she thinks hold me back any more. I want to be free with you." He said. Tears still sprung to his eyes, tears with a mixture of anger at her for holding him back so long and happiness that he had finally broken free of his chains. He let loose, feeling the tension drain from his body as he let the tears flow.

It was no surprise when a couple of seconds later, Dean's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, his lips moving to kiss away some of Castiel's tears.

"Please don't let this hurt you any more." He said, his voice deeper than usual with emotion. "You're too beautiful for that."

"I'll try." Castiel whispered, laughing a little. Dean's arms pulled him even closer, and Castiel rested his head on Dean's shoulder. A hand rubbed his back comfortingly, stroking his feathers through his shirt. He made a content sound in his throat and snuggled in deeper, smiling into Dean's shirt. He really did have the best boyfriend ever.

After that, the summer was in full bloom. Dean and Castiel were living together now, so they spent almost every waking minute in each other's company. Sam was with them some of the time too, and had taken to inviting his friend Gabriel over to hang out. Castiel was surprised that they got along with Gabriel's fun loving nature. They got into fights sometimes, (usually, those ended with Dean slamming Castiel against the wall and kissing him with bruising force, or the other way around) but for the most time they were happy together. During the day they would sometimes drive to the Roadhouse and hang out with Jo and Ash, whom Castiel had learned were actually fairly good dancers. The pair of them flirted with either him or Dean or sometimes each other, (Castiel didn't eat jealous because he knew it wasn't personal; it was their personalities) with playful winks, nudges, and laughs. It wasn't long until he considered them both two of his closest friends- and to think, just months ago he never would have considered having friends. He loved them more than he could have imagined.

On nights where they wanted to watch the stars and couldn't make it out to the ocean point, they put on the projector on Castiel's ceiling and looked up, hands lightly grasping each other as they scanned the ceiling, pretending it was the sky. For them, in that moment, it was the sky. Their own personal sky with their own stars, their own constellations, and their own stories.

Dean was better, at coming up with the stories. Castiel had never been one for creative writing, he wasn't bad at coming up with things on his own. Dean, however, was absolutely brilliant. All he needed was to see a shape in the stars, and his mind would work faster than his mouth would. Sometimes, the stories would have happy endings, and sometimes they wouldn't. You never knew which way a story would go until the very last minute, and that's what Castiel loved about them. Dean would never admit to being creative, but he was.

At night, Castiel and Dean would wait until Bobby was asleep and one would sneak into the other's room. It was usually Dean taking the trip to Castiel's, (after all, while they couldn't see their favorite stars from Castiel's window they could still see the stars) but Castiel would occasionally get impatient and walk up to Dean's room. Castiel would then wrap his arms around Dean's, and Dean would allow his wings to encase their bodies. Cas thought it was quite nice; when he wanted to be held, Dean would hold him. When he wanted to hold, Dean would let him. Their relationship had no set dominance, and it made him feel secure knowing that Dean considered them equals.

Often times in the morning, they would sneak out of the room whispering and trying not to make creaks in the floor as they walked, hoping not to wake up or alert the other two occupants to their close proximity through the night. Every once in awhile, Bobby would be waiting for them and give them a lecture on staying in their own bed and insisting that next time there would be consequences, but Castiel knew that there wouldn't be. Bobby's small smile that he tried to hold back at the end of every lecture was enough to tell him that.

About halfway through the summer, Castiel and Dean had found that it was much easier to keep clean if they cleaned each other's wings. Dean would bring up a bucket of warm, soapy water and a wash rag, along with a huge pile of towels that they would lay out in the floor. Castiel would sit down with his shirt tossed to the side, typically in his pajama bottoms so that his regular pants would keep dry. He'd enjoy the feeling of Dean's fingers slowly working on his feathers, spreading them apart and gently scrubbing the dirt. He melted, turning to butter in his hands every time. He knew that this was one of those things that he would only let Dean do; anybody else touching his wings like this would feel much too intimate. It required a great amount of trust to allow Dean to touch his wings, as they were the most fragile part of his body. After Dean was done and Castiel's wings no longer held their moisture, (Castiel dried them off by going out the back door and flapping them, he was actually almost as good as Dean with his muscles now and had accidentally lifted his feet off the ground a couple of times by flapping harder than he had meant to) Castiel and Dean switched places. Dean preferred that Castiel used the oil he naturally produced instead of the soap, claiming that it kept his scent "woodsy" and he didn't want to smell "like dish detergent" (not that he didn't like the smell, he loved how Cas's wings smelled) so Cas worked with that, sometimes using just a splash of clean water if Dean had somehow gotten a burr in them. Castiel loved the feeling of Dean's silky smooth feathers in his hands, running along his skin. He thought he'd never get enough of the feeling.

One day, while Castiel's wings were being cleaned, Dean suddenly froze in place.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked after a minute, concern going through him. Dean hardly ever stopped; he had a great deal of energy.

"Well, you're molting." Dean said flatly. He shifted, moving his hands off of Castiel's wings and out in front of him, showing Castiel the broken feather before him. Castiel stared at it a moment, not quite understanding what it meant.

"What's that?" He asked, crinkling his nose. Dean laughed a little, shaking his head.

"Well, I guess since you've never really had your wings out before now it's never happened to you before, but..." Dean started to explain. He took a moment to choose his words, his head bobbing side to side for a moment while he chose an accurate description. "It's like when you lose damaged feathers and your body replaces them. Birds do it. I do the same thing every year. I'm not due to lose feathers for another two weeks, but who knows, maybe this year will be different?" He asked himself, frowning.

"Oh. So, I'm going to lose my unhealthy feathers and gain ones better suited to survival?" Castiel asked, ruffling up his wings in excitement. Dean laughed at his scientific choice of words and nodded his head, going back to running his fingers through Castiel's wings.

All in all, after the cleaning, Castiel had a pile of feathers to his right that vaguely reminded him of the inside to a blue pillow. Dean was finally done and he gestured towards the pile, giving a low whistle.

"Dang Cas, you lost a lot of feathers. I usually only lose about half this many." Dean said, nodding at the pile. There were actually a couple of Castiel's primary feathers that had fallen out, causing his wings to look like a child's smile when it was missing a tooth. These feathers, of course, were a little longer than his torso. Dean picked up a couple of them and put one on either side of his head, making it look like he had blue feather antennas.

"Oh my god, stop it." Castiel said, reaching out to grab his feathers. Dean dodged his attempt, flapping his own wings out and wrapping them around his body to protect himself.

"Oh yeah? How about next I make a feather boa?" Dean snarked, laughing behind his wall of feathers. Just as he stopped, one of his own primaries came out, slowly dropping to the floor. Castiel's eyes followed curiously as it went, and he bent down to pick it up, nodding as he inspected it from all angles. It was still smooth to the touch and smelled like Dean, all musk and leather. Dean stared at the hole like he couldn't believe the timing and Castiel just smiled wider.

"I can see that you're not making a feather boa in there." He teased, laughing a little. Dean moved his wings apart and smiled sheepishly, setting Castiel's feathers down back in the pile.

During summer vacation, Bobby had to work. He had three kids to support, it wasn't like he could just leave them to go hungry. Since the only thing Bobby had done for the last ten years was hunt, that was really the only thing that he was interested in doing.

Hunting alone was dangerous. You were probably up against multiple people, sometimes multiple gangs of people, and without back up you were screwed if someone caught you. So, hunting being something Dean had been helping with for the past two years, Dean volunteered to tag along with Bobby.

"So you're going to be gone for how long?" Castiel asked, his brow furrowing. Dean sighed, looking down at the desk.

"Bobby already did all the research and tracked the guy from here, so we should only be gone a couple of weeks at most." Dean promised, looking up. Castiel shook his head in disbelief.

"Why do you want to do this? Why would you like something that had consumed your childhood?" He demanded, raising an eyebrow in question. Dean sighed and looked down again, taking a moment to breathe before he straightened up again, looking Castiel in the eyes.

"I like the job because I'm helping people, Cas. People would die without these guys getting caught and I'm the one who catches them. Well, me and Bobby. That gives me purpose." Dean said. Castiel could see the sincerity shining in his eyes and he nodded his head slowly, understanding what Dean was saying. He could get that, saving people, hunting criminals, it was sort of the family business.

The thing was, Castiel was part of the family now.

"Okay, fine." He relented. "When you come back though, you're teaching me how to hunt."

"Excuse me?" Dean said, his eyebrows raising. Castiel didn't respond, simply meeting his eyes and standing his ground. "You want to learn how to hunt?"

"You said that hunting alone was dangerous." Castiel said, speaking slowly as he chose his words carefully, "If you plan to continue hunting to support us when we're older, you're going to need to have a partner."

"That's not going to be you." Dean said automatically. Castiel felt anger rise within him; how dare Dean try and be such a hypocrite? What, he was allowed to put himself in the line of fire but Castiel wasn't? He didn't think so.

"Yes, it is. I hate to bring this up, but you know what happened to your mother. They didn't go after her father because he was too dangerous to them. If she had been actively hunting, they wouldn't have dreamed of touching her because they'd know that she probably knew how to protect herself. Do you want what happened to her to end up happening to me?" Castiel demanded, his eyes burning with passion. Dean's face was blank at this point, his mind working as he processed what Castiel had just said. Actually, in a disturbing way, it did make sense. But that didn't mean that he wanted to see Cas out in the field any more.

"Fine." He finally relented. At least if Castiel was his partner, he could keep an eye out for him. Castiel tried to he'd his surprise at winning the argument so quickly, nodding his head. "As soon as Bobby and I are back from the trip, I'll train you in hunting."

"Do you promise?" Castiel demanded, not quite getting just how easy it was. He was afraid that Dean would go back on what he said or find a way out of it. Dean recoiled a bit, like he was hurt.

"I never break a promise." He said, nodding. Castiel nodded back and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and burying his face in Dean's neck, inhaling his woodsy scent and enjoying the feeling of the warm and firm body against his own. He heard Dean sigh too and return the gesture, giving Castiel a bear hug and just holding him for a little while.

Dean pulled away, hearing Bobby's motor start up outside. He sighed, knowing that having Castiel here alone would be hard on him. Luckily he had just had a visit with his father and the fridge was stocked, so he wouldn't have to worry about Cas having to walk anywhere.

Castiel suddenly leaned forward, crashing their lips together passionately. Dean made a choked sound of surprise in the back of his throat at Castiel's enthusiasm, but he returned it just as eagerly, pushing Cas up against the wall and placing his hands firmly on Cas's shoulders. They broke apart for a couple of moments-their movements becoming more frantic as Castiel reached around to run his fingers through Dean's hair, pulling him even closer. The honk of the horn caused them to jump apart, both of them panting.

"I have to go." Dean mumbled, resting his forehead against Castiel's. Castiel nodded his head and gave him one more quick peck before he released his hands, freeing his lover.

"Come back." Castiel said simply. Dean rolled his eyes, but he could hardly hide the endeared smile that came to his face. He grabbed his bag and walked out the door, running and jumping into the truck with Bobby. Castiel gave a deep sigh, feeling himself deflate. It would be boring here without Dean.

Of course, though, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He and Sam talked a lot, watched Netflix, played a couple board games... And while Cas was still afraid for Dean, the letters helped.

Aaaah, the letters. On the third day of Dean's absence, the small, crinckled up envelope arrived with handwriting that he so clearly recalled. A smile spread across his face and he excitedly tore it open, scanning the words eagerly.

It wasn't much, just a summary of the trip so far and a sloppy, awkward goodbye, (Cas got the distinct impression that Dean wasn't sure whether to end on, 'your friend' or 'with love') but it meant a lot to Castiel.

A new letter came four days in a row, and his face would split into a grin every time the mailman pulled in. They were getting longer and more comfortable each time, and Castiel would have written back if the return address hadn't changed every time a new one came in.

Finally, on the eighth day, Castiel heard the sound of gravel against tires. He dropped what he was doing, running outside eagerly to see Dean unloading a bag of what looked like guns. Dean turned when he heard the door swing open and he smiled widely, turning to look at his boyfriend. The bag crashed onto the ground and Dean walked over, taking large steps as he approached Castiel and wrapped his arms around his lover. Dean was dirty and sweaty but Castiel disregarded the fact, leaning into the hug and closing his eyes in bliss.

"I missed you." He whispered, hugging Dean as tightly as he dared.

"I missed you to." Dean said, returning Castiel's affectionate squeeze. He pulled back a little and kissed Castiel's forehead, breathing in deeply as if recommitting Castiel's scent to memory.

They reluctantly parted when Bobby yelled, "You two idjits get over here and help me with this crap!"  
Time was hardly of the essence in training Castiel, but Dean acted like they could be catapulted into danger at any time. Castiel's training was long and hard as he learned the right way to hit, how to shoot a gun, (he didn't really see how useful a gun was until the target fell backwards like the quarterback had just tackled it) and how to use a knife. He also was taught how to escape every binding known to man; handcuffs, rope, wire, hell even a straight jacket (he decided not to ask where Dean had acquired such a thing). He and Dean had done hand to hand combat a couple of times, but that ended very quickly in a steamy kissing session on the ground underneath the large oak. Castiel thought it was probably his favorite of the training sessions.

Summer breezed by as quickly and easily as a leaf turns in the wind, and soon they found that school was glaring them down again. Castiel was a bit bummed out, for the first time actually not wanting to start school back up, but he appreciated the summer spent with Dean. Kissing under the trees and listening to Dean's music and feeling the breeze on his feathers, (which had, by the way, all grown back shinier and larger than before) and for once in his life enjoying being himself. Dean, well...

Dean was convinced that he was in love with Castiel. It wasn't that he felt he couldn't live without him, because that's not truly what love is. Romeo, had he truly loved Juliet, would have known that she would have wanted him to move on with his life and find a way to be happy without her. It's that, out of all of the people in the world he could choose to be with, he knew he would pick Castiel a million times over. It's that Castiel's smile made him smile too. It's that, even though he found Castiel attractive as hell, he would rather have a slow kissing session in the back of the impala with tender touches than the frenzied make out sessions that he had always preferred with other partners. It was that, over the last four months, Castiel had somehow managed to become the only person that Dean truly trusted other than his brother. Even Bobby didn't quite make it up that high.

Which was why he was pulling Bobby aside at seven o'clock in the morning. He had had to sneak out of his bed, (being careful not to disturb Castiel) and stumble numbly down the stairs to tiptoe into Bobby's room and reset his alarm so he would get up earlier. He had then snuck back out to the kitchen and sat at the table with the coffee pot running, inhaling the fumes and waiting for Bobby.

As soon as the coffee was done brewing, heavy steps stumbled out of Bobby's bedroom. He groaned, setting his hand on the table before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a large cup of joe, then plopped himself down in the seat across from Dean, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I'm not stupid." He announced, taking a swig of the burning hot liquid. He flinched as he burned his throat, but he was honestly too tired to care about a little heat. "I know that you reset my alarm, I'm the one who trained you to get in and out of rooms without people noticing. You can't pull that on me." Bobby said. He didn't sound angry though, so Dean decided to just come out with it.

"Okay, okay. I needed to talk to you." He announced, shrugging. Bobby waited silently, patiently, gesturing for Dean to continue.

Dean bit his lip. How was he supposed to say what he really wanted to? How could he put his feelings into words when he knew that there were no words to describe it? He gave a deep sigh, trying to find at least something to say to describe what he wanted, or rather, why he wanted it.

"I'm not getting any younger." Bobby said flatly. Dean glared at him for a moment before finally deciding to just go with what he felt like saying.

"I want to try to fly. With Cas." He added quickly. Bobby stared at him blankly for a moment, and Dean was afraid that it was a stupid idea. It would be dangerous and there would be heights and he would be terrified the entire time. Maybe he should just back out and forget all about it...

"You're terrified of flying." Bobby said after a moment. there was a small pause before he tagged on, "You're really in love with that boy."

"I am." Dean admitted. It was the first time he had said it out loud, and it just felt so good to finally admit. "I really, really am." He repeated, just to hear himself hear it. Bobby sighed.

"If you really want to do this, I know a place." Bobby said slowly. "But you should wake Castiel up now and go, because it's quite the drive, especially for Saturday morning traffic in that area." He mumbled. Dean nodded, urging him to continue.

Castiel woke to his lips being lightly pressed against someone else's, a hand coming down to rest on his shoulder. As he woke up, he slowly began to return the kiss, his eyes fluttering open as the lips pulled away from his own. He was looking up into the magnificent green of his lover's eyes.

"Good morning." He greeted, giving a small yawn. Dean shifted back to give him room and he sat up, giving a small stretch. He slumped back against the headboard of Dean's bed, and he smiled at his boyfriend. "To what do I owe the occasion?"

"We're going on a date." Dean said abruptly. Castiel's lip turned up just the slightest bit, curiosity burning at the back of his mind.

"Oh really? What kind of a date?" He asked. Dean looked over and raised an eyebrow as if to question Castiel.

"If I told you it wouldn't be as fun." He said. Castiel rolled his eyes before giving another large yawn and stretching his back, hearing several satisfying pops that made him shiver in delight. When his muscles felt relaxed, he threw the blankets to the side and swung his feet on to the floor, standing up.

"Well then, I guess the sooner we get started the sooner I find out." He said with resignation, ruffling up his wings behind him.

Dean walked over to the dresser and opened it, the drawer rolling out as his eyes scanned for the shirts with the wing space. He located two of them and grabbed them, walking over by the bed and stuffing them in the bag. Castiel was too preoccupied with stretching to question the move, so he was silent as Dean slung the bag over his shoulder and grabbed Castiel's hand, leading him into the hallway. They went down the stairs and passed the kitchen, (now empty since Bobby had went off to bed) and through the door, where the impala was sitting already started.

Castiel was still quiet as he and Dean climbed in, Dean leaning forward and pressing the radio for some music. Castiel closed his eyes again as they took off down the road, feeling the need for sleep outweigh the want to talk with Dean. He sighed as he began to drift off, his dreams filled with bright colors and shapes.

As he sometimes did, he dreamed of flying.

Dean looked over at Castiel's sleeping form and gave an amused sigh, shaking his head. It was probably good that Castiel was sleeping for some of the ride, it would be a long drive. Bobby had given him the shortest directions possible, but they would still be driving for a good five hours. Which gave Dean plenty of time to think.

Castiel meant so much to him. Castiel was his everything now, well, him and Sam. They were inseparable. Dean's eyes flickered again to the cute little thing in the seat beside him. Could he really put Castiel in danger?

He didn't want to teach Castiel to hunt. He hadn't wanted that, he didn't want Cas to have that life. But it would be unfair for Dean to be a hypocrite about this, and Castiel did have a point about his mother. Not only that, but if Dean let Castiel hunt, they could travel the world together searching for criminals, which had been Castiel's dream since he was little. Well, not the bounty hunting part, but the traveling the world thing.

As a bonus, Castiel was a good fighter. Dean had almost been overpowered himself a couple of times, and Castiel was good with weapons. He could take care of himself, Dean knew that.

Not that if they were ever on the field together Dean wouldn't be nervous as hell. It was practically his job to worry.

He would contemplate the issue several more times, he was sure, but for then he would just let it go. Today was supposed to be about learning how to fly.

At the halfway point, Dean woke Castiel up. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and only the elderly and the poor souls who had to work on Saturday were up. Castiel groggily rose from his slumber, smiling at Dean and leaning in for a small peck.

"So, is this it?" He asked, assessing the small diner that Dean had pulled up in front of. Dean laughed, shaking his head no.

"Of course not, this is just where we stop for breakfast." Dean said, getting out of the car. He walked around to Castiel's side and opened his door, Castiel rolling his eyes as he stepped into the morning air.

The restaurant was small and cozy, with pun-ridden signs hung all over the walls. Dean had stopped in a small town, so this place was a little hole in the wall joint that he thought to be nice. There were a couple of booths close to the door and a sign that declared you should seat yourself, and Dean slid into a booth close to the door.

When the petit blonde waitress asked for their order, Dean ordered for both of them. When she walked away, Castiel felt playful feet nudge at his from Dean's side of the table. When their food came, Dean insisted that Castiel try a bite of his omelet despite the fact that they had the exact same thing, and then they both exchanged bites by feeding each other. When they were standing outside the restaurant, Dean lied about Castiel having a piece of cheese on his lips and used it as an excuse to kiss him.

They climbed in the car, and Castiel was certain he was floating on cloud nine.

"You know, no matter how many dates we go on you still find ways to make me have butterflies." He mumbled, a little embarrassed at himself for the girly comment. Dean smiled broadly and his eyes shifted over to Castiel's for a moment.

"That's because you're the first person I feel like making it special for. I don't want to go on dates because I want to make out. I actually find myself just being happy by making you happy." Dean said. There was a small pause and he snorted. "Dude, look what you did to me, I sound like I'm straight out of a chick flick." He laughed. Castiel smiled.

"That's because you're a huge cheese ball. I didn't influence your speech patterns in the slightest."  
"You're the one who started this whole conversation, angel." Dean retorted.

The rest of the two hour car ride was spent with whitty banter and playful insults, all of which laced by the sarcasm Dean had taught Castiel to use so well. It was light and easy, and Dean hardly noticed when they rolled up to the park gates.

Anxiety rose in his stomach like a title wave. He was scared. Afraid to fall again, afraid that Castiel would fall and get hurt, afraid that he would be too afraid to learn how.

No, he couldn't think like that. He was here with Castiel now, and the redwood trees that would hide their activities were stretched out before them. Dean reached out to hand the guard their admission and the impala rolled into the tree covered land.

"Is this the place?" Castiel asked, confusion lining his voice. Dean nodded his head, his eyes scanning the woods like they were going to disappear at any moment. It all felt very surreal. "What are we doing here?"

"We're going to learn to fly." Dean announced bravely, pulling off to the side and parking the car. He looked over to see the confusion riddled all over Castiel's face.

"We... We came here to fly?" Castiel asked, his voice revealing the shock that this caused him. Dean nodded his head, reaching back to unzip the duffel bag and grab the shirts that let their wings out. He tossed one at Castiel, keeping one for himself.

"Get changed." Dean said, gesturing towards the wrinkled fabric in Castiel's hands. Castiel stared at it like it was a foreign object for a minute before snapping out of it and immediately setting to work, taking off his own shirt and placing the one with holes on his torso, letting his wings out.

"We're really going to do this?" Castiel asked, his face breaking in to a smile. Dean looked over at him, at how happy he was, and he knew that he would regret it forever if he went back on his choice now. No matter how badly it scared him, holding either of them back would only cause more hurt. It was time to do what they were born to and learn how to fly.

He nodded his head and changed his own shirt quickly, stepping out of the car and walking over to Castiel's side, mimicking his own earlier actions by opening the car door for him. Castiel thanked Dean with a warm kiss, one that he couldn't stop smiling through.

Their hike into the woods lasted forty five minutes, Castiel and Dean both looking up at the massive trees every thirty or so feet. The tips weren't even visible, a layer of fog stopping them from seeing. Castiel decided that he was going to touch the top of one.

Finally, they stopped, Dean deciding that they were definitely far enough away. No chance anyone would see them this far out.

"Okay, this is the place." He announced, looking around. There was a space between the trees to the right of where they were that was just a little larger than the typical gap, so they headed over towards it. Dean leaned against a tree lazily as Castiel walked out to the edges of the space, unsure of what to do.

"How should I start?" He asked Dean. Dean shrugged.

"Go by instinct, I'm sure you'll think of something that will work." He said. Castiel rolled his eyes.  
"According to most avian instinct, you would have learned when your mother pushed you out of a nest." He mumbled. If Dean heard him, he chose to ignore it.

Castiel slowly walked out to the center of the clearing, closing his eyes.

What did he feel like doing? Well, he felt like stretching his wings, so he did. He stretched his wings out and rose them up, his feathers naturally shifting into a position to grab the most air. His eyes snapped open again as he forced his muscles down, a pocket of air being caught by his wings.

Instead of being lifted high into the air, Castiel's feet went an inch from the ground before he immediately crashed back down, landing on his hands and knees. Dean snorted from his place by the tree.

"I think you have to keep flapping." He announced. Castiel resisted the urge to flip his boyfriend off and stood up, shaking the dirt from his coat, and he ruffled up his feathers, assuming the same position.

He knew what his mother would have seen right now, a monster learning how to embrace its dark side. He knew she would have screamed at him to stop. He knew that he would be called a freak by whatever man she had found instead of his father.

He knew that none of this was true.

He knew that he was born with these wings as a gift, and he intended to use them. He was going to soar with the eagle, his feathers were going to carve out shapes in the air as they carried him along, commanding gravity and keeping him up. He was going to fly.

So, with a determined set of his jaw, he flapped his wings, his feet raising just a little higher than before. Instead of freezing this time, he flapped again, and again, each time getting higher and higher off of the ground.

Dean watched, his eyes glued to Castiel as he rose higher and higher, the peace and control in his movements being one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Castiel had never looked more natural, more in his game. He wanted to join him.

Dean's wings slowly spread out beside him, and he let go of the fear. The only thing he could see was Castiel, the only thing he knew was that he belonged in the air beside him. He began to beat his feathers, his own wings beginning to lift him into the air like Castiel, his larger size giving him the advantage of going faster. Soon, he was level with his lover, and a couple of powerful strokes brought him right beside Cas, only the necessary space for wingspan separating them.

Castiel kept flying and Dean kept following, feeling the air and atmosphere give way as they flew, flew like they had been born to do nothing but fly. The air molded and shaped like butter, and Castiel surged forward, loving the feeling of his wings finally getting to do what they were made to do. He began to move his feathers the slightest bit, changing directions as he wove through the trees effortlessly, Dean following behind.

He didn't know how long he way flying, getting higher and higher, but he saw the branches just a couple of feet above his head and he searched for a break, finding one and then gliding through it. The skies were gray with clouds as they both broke through the forest canopy, the redwoods no longer towering above them but rather stretching out below. Castiel had probably never felt more content in his life as when his fingers brushed the tips of the leaves.

His happiness was short ended though. Soon, the clouds above them looked more and more ominous, and he flinched as the first drop of rain fell onto his left wing. He gave a deep sigh, his eyes scanning the trees until he found a nice branch to land on.

His legs wobbled as he landed, and he immediately had to crouch to keep himself from falling. He sat down and waited a few moments for Dean to settle down beside him.

"I guess we should probably go home now?" Castiel asked. Just as he spoke, as if waiting for a cue, the skies opened up and all of heaven poured down on them, the rain beginning to soak through his shirt and wet his wings immediately. Dean laughed, leaning back and facing his head up to let the drops land on his face.

"You know, had it been anyone else out there with me, I wouldn't have been able to do it." Dean said seriously, his eyes shining with gratitude. Castiel felt a warm and fuzzy feeling come up and threaten his manliness, and he attempted to brush it aside.

"I'm happy for you. I know that took a lot." Castiel said, looking over. Dean had stopped letting the rain fall on his face, and he was looking at Castiel with an intensity in his eyes he had never been capable of achieving before.

"That's the thing. It wasn't hard." Dean said. Castiel felt Dean's soft hands reach out and take his own, but he couldn't be bothered to look. "I just saw you, and I knew that where you were was where I wanted to be. Cas," Dean paused, giving a sigh and blinking hard, like he was trying to find the right words. "You're so much more to me than I ever could have hoped, and I know how stupidly cliché I sound right now man, but..." Dean stopped talking for a moment, and he gave a deep sigh. He looked away from Castiel, towards the leaves beside their hands, and then allow back up again, as if he had worked up the courage to say it. "I love you."

Castiel felt his breath catch in his throat. He did not hesitate to spit out his response of, "I love you, too."

There was a silence and Castiel felt joy rise up in him, a smile spreading across his face. Dean returned it, his eyes wrinkling and his teeth displaying proudly.

Castiel threw his arms around Dean's neck, sending them over the edge of the branch. The air woodshed around them as the descended through the air, their wet hair whipping around their faces as Castiel's lips found their way to Dean's. Castiel slowly extended his wings, slowing down their fall more and more as their lips worked together.

They broke apart after a little while, Castiel knowing that he had to make sure they didn't hit a tree. He was having some trouble keeping Dean up, (he was heavier than Castiel had anticipated) but they made it to the ground eventually, their feet landing softly on the forest floor.

"Let's go to a motel or something." Dean mumbled, not feeling like making the too-long drive back home. Castiel nodded his head; his muscles were sore and he could really use a nap.

"Okay. Race you to the car?" He offered, stretching out his wings. Hey, flying would be faster than walking.

Dean grinned wickedly and shook some of the water out of his own wings. Oh, it was on.

Later that night, both of them lay cuddled up in a small motel bed. Bobby had given Dean the money and Dean had used his fake hunter ID to get it. Dean and Castiel's legs were tangled up as they listened to the rain pitter-patter on the roof above them, clanging metallically as it pinged off of the metal storm drain outside of their window.

"Thank you so much for today." Castiel whispered, grabbing Dean and pulling him closer. Dean let out a contented sigh, nodding his head.

"We'll have to do it again sometime. When we're old and falling apart we'll still be sneaking off into the forest." Dean chuckled. Castiel laughed along with him, smiling broadly.

"So, I guess this means you want to be with me forever?" Castiel teased. Dean didn't respond for a moment, and the air got just a little more serious.

"Castiel, you're probably the only person on this earth I could really love for just you. Of course I want to be with you forever." Dean said gently. Castiel felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"I want to be with you too, Dean. Always." Castiel said. Dean smiled, and his fingers threaded in between Castiel's.

Castiel's soft skin and the warmth of his body were so warming and comforting. The knowledge that the person beside Dean would be there for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, letting tension drain from his body.

He fell asleep to the sound of rain and his lover's softly beating heart.

~~~~~~70 years later~~~~~~~~~  
Castiel sat, his breathing heavy, the water rattling in his lungs and his hands shaking like they were leaves in a hurricane. Dean was in the bed next to him, in an even worse condition than his own. Sean's hand was resting in his lovers, his thumbs tracing the wrinkles and veins and callouses that he knew so well; the wrinkles and callouses that he had seen appear over the years. He gave a deep sigh as Castiel gasped in another painful breath. He knew it was painful; he himself had had a case of bad pneumonia last year. Of course, it never escalated to the point Castiel's was at now. No, Dean's only problem now was old age.

Of course, even with that, he knew that it was his time. He may have been a crazy old man just hallucinating, but he could have sworn that he saw an angel of death. Her name was Tessa, and she'd asked him to let go, but he'd told her that he couldn't. He couldn't let Castiel die alone, not when they'd already been trough so much together.

Dean and Castiel did travel the world as hunters. When they finally passed, it would be publicized that they killed three of their generations most wanted; they would be honored as heroes.

After that, Castiel had gone to college and gotten a degree. Dean had had enough of the constant death scares and fighting that hunting caused he and Castiel, (Castiel and him had almost pushed back their wedding because of it, which would have been a shame since Bobby, Sam and his wife Jess, Gabriel, Balthazar, (claiming several of their high school friends owed him money now because he called it) Ash and Jo were all flying in to see it happen. They had managed to get it together though, and the wedding was to this day the happiest moment of both of their lives.

Once Castiel had his degree in culture, he traveled the world with Dean, exploring the various physiological and social pressures of differing environments. Castiel actually had a best selling book on travel and some of his favorite stories from his times around the globe, (Dean had insisted he put the time he punched a guy in Hawaii for trying to flirt with Castiel after repeatedly being told Cas was married) and he had also written a science-fiction novel about humans with special adaptations. Nobody knew that the little boy in the first half of the book was actually himself, more specifically the story of he and Dean.

Of course, they would know. He had told his editor when the book went over so big that he had left a note in a locked safe in his and Dean's permanent Californian home (which was on the beach down below the cliff where Dean had first shown Castiel his wings) which held the information about him and Dean being those children, and the coroner who got his body would certainly provide the truth to that statement.

It didn't look like that would be too far away though. His breath rattled and his body shook. It took so much effort just to keep breathing. Castiel knew that no matter what he tried he was not going to make it today. That was okay. He had Dean by his side.

"Dean, Dean, are you there?" He choked out, coughing. Dean squeezed his hand reassuringly.  
"Of course I am. Always." Dean said genuinely.

"Good. I love you." Castiel coughed out, still managing to flash a blinding smile Dean's way. Dean hadn't had the energy to fly for nearly ten years, but Castiel never failed to make his heart soar.

"Cas," he said, seeing the pain in his lover's eyes. He wanted so badly to not have to say it, to just hold on to Castiel for just a little bit longer, but he knew that would be cruel. Castiel had been through enough, it was his time to go. "You can let go now."

"So can you." Cas pointed out, coughing again. Dean sighed, running his thumb again over Castiel's veins.

"I'm not letting go until you do." Dean said, actually almost quoting the words he had said to Tessa. Castiel rolled his eyes, but he felt his resolve waning. Even without the diminishment, he felt fluid sloshing in his lungs now. He didn't have much longer either way.

"You know," he breathed, sitting up a bit, ignoring the muscle creaking as he did so, ignoring how much effort that simple action took, "I always said I wanted to grow old with you. I think we did pretty good, huh?" Castiel laughed, and it sent him into another coughing fit. His eyes widened in panic when he realized that his lungs were not getting as much oxygen as he needed, and he resisted the urge to press the panic button, to call for a nurse. Dean was right, it was his time to let go.

"You've always done good." Dean said, hearing the steady beating from Castiel's heart machine just beginning to speed up in the fear that he felt. Dean quickly lifted Castiel's hand up to his lips and kissed his lover's knuckles. "I love you." He said. His lover's heartbeat had always been a sound he enjoyed, but out loud, monitored by the large clanky machine beside him, it had always sounded off. Now, it really was off.

"I love you to. See you on the other side?" Castiel asked, not willing to say goodbye. Dean shook his head yes, his eyes shining with tears.

"I did say always, didn't I?" He asked. Castiel seemed content with that answer, because he closed his eyes and leaned back. His heartbeat sped and raced and sped, his body convulsing weakly a last few times before stopping, a loud and droning beeping noise causing Dean to cringe. Nurses rushed into the room, but they didn't even try to save him. They had all seen this coming for awhile now.

Dean felt numb inside. He wasn't sure how to act now that he was really gone. He had no real reason to keep going; he was at the end of his days now too, and Castiel had been his only reason this entire last year for hanging on.

He saw a shadow flicker in the corner of the room, and he was not surprised to see that it was Tessa, standing there with her lip quirked up like she had seen this coming. Dean knew what the smirk meant; it was his time now, and Castiel was waiting for him.

Which is why it was no surprise when moments later, the monitor next to Castiel's went dead, too.


End file.
